The Ministry Has Fallen
by forevrfallenfromglory
Summary: The Dark has won. Harry struggles with the expectations and responsibilities thrust upon him by the rebellion. With the horcruxes gone, Voldemort has a new way to become immortal, one darker yet more vulnerable. New allies will be found in unlikely places, and there will be power the Dark lord knows not. Change comes when humanity is cast aside, for the greater good. Slight OOC/AU
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **_Inspired by a rather lovely set of images detailing the usual suspects as Wanted by Voldemort and his followers, who have taken over the Wizarding World. As this came rather suddenly to me, I haven't yet nailed down all the details, so I cannot promise regular updates. However, I will certainly try to post at least once each week. Probably on Sundays. (Yes, this is a Thursday, but I was too excited about it. :) I had to post now.) Some brief **WARNINGS** for the journey ahead: there will most likely be **language**, most definitely **violence**, of a rather violent nature. There will also be **scenes of a sexual nature** (probably **MxM**, so if that isn't your cup of tea, you may either skip those chapters or ignore the story altogether). Additional warnings include **character deaths**, both major and minor, though I haven't yet made up my mind about the more major ones._

_Thus concludes the first chapter of The Ministry Has Fallen. I hope you've enjoyed it, and will continue to enjoy as it is completed. Read, follow, review!_

_Psst...I would love it if someone made an awesome trailer for this story. If interested, PM me, and I might give you a few more details with which you can complete said trailer. If not, well...enjoy this anyways. :) Bye!_

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><p><span><strong>Summary:<strong>

The war has ended, with Voldemort the victor. Yet the rebellion lives on, silent, ever waiting and watching for the moment to strike. Harry struggles with the expectations and responsibilities thrust upon him, trying to inspire the rebels all while trying to strike at the Death Eaters and the Dark lord. With the horcruxes gone, a new evil has been brought to light, bringing immortality all the closer, yet all the more vulnerable. New allies will be formed in the unlikeliest of places, and blossoming romance will once again prove that there is power the Dark lord knows not.

They say that the ones best equipped to inspire change are the ones who are able to put aside their humanity for the greater good.

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><p>Excerpt from Chapter 8, "The Wedding", Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows:<p>

_At that moment, something large and silver came falling through the canopy over the dance floor. Graceful and gleaming, the lynx landed lightly in the middle of the astonished dancers. Heads turned, as those nearest it froze absurdly in mid-dance. Then the Patronus' mouth opened wide and it spoke in the loud, deep, slow voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt._

"_The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."  
><em>J.K. Rowling

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><p>Memories flashed in the darkness. A darkened forest. Cackling laughter. A wand, pointed at him. King's Cross, bathed in white. A trembling figure curled in the fetal position beneath a bench. Dumbledore, falling from the tower – no, standing before him in full health. The darkened forest once more, and a green light. There was a woman, screaming. Screaming. And the shouted curse.<p>

Avada Kedavra.

He was dead. There was no other explanation for the darkness that pressed down upon him. When Dumbledore had told him how to find the way out, Harry had thought he'd been choosing life. So why then was this darkness so heavy? Why wouldn't his eyes open.

His world jolted, and sound came rushing back to his ears as the smell of blood and ash and sweat assaulted his nose.

" - drop him!"

" - okay mate?"

"Hang in there!"

Green eyes blinked open, and he took in the high ceiling above him. This wasn't the forest. Where was Hagrid, and the Death Eaters, and…Voldemort? His body refused to snap up like he had wanted to, and Harry was forced to wait as feeling returned to his heavy limbs. Since his eyes were the only part of him that would currently move, he contented himself with looking as far to the left and right as he possibly could. He recognized this place. This was where Bill and Fleur lived, Shell Cottage. Yet this was not where he last remembered being. Last thing he knew, he was in the forest, and Voldemort had fired the Killing Curse at him. If he was dead, then he shouldn't be able to feel the dull ache and the sharper pains that located the numerous wounds across his body. Nor should he be lying on the couch of the living room in Shell Cottage. Movement came to him, and he turned his head to see a few people huddled around another figure lying on the ground.

"Head wound…probably lost a lot of blood." Harry recognized Hermione's voice, and relief washed over him. She was safe. He couldn't spot Ron though, which made him uneasy.

"I haven't learned very many healing spells I'm afraid," replied a softer voice. Luna gently touched the blood-encrusted fringe, her big blue eyes blinking down at the unconscious Neville Longbottom. "I won't be able to help much."

"If only I were able to get to the Hogwarts library," Hermione murmured, her tone frustrated. "I'm sure there would be books on healing charms. Well, we need to stop the bleeding anyhow, and it doesn't look terribly deep, so…Tergeo. Episkey." The blood, dried and otherwise, began to siphon away, and the wound closed slowly. "That should be good enough. St. Mungo's isn't an option right now."

Seamus Finnigan, who had also been crouched beside Neville, spoke up. "What are we going to do?" he asked, his voice low. Neither Hermione nor Luna responded for a long while.

It was Luna who spoke first. "Survive," she said, her tone a lot cheerier. "It's our only option really. I'm sure there are plenty of others who've made it out. And there are members of the Order still out there. They promised to meet us here, and help us escape."

"Escape? Why would we need to escape?" All three of the students whirled around at the sound of his rasping voice.

"Harry?" whispered Hermione. Her eyes were wide, and beginning to glisten. "Please tell me I'm not imagining this…"

Harry sat up, his muscles protesting. "Why would you be imagining this?" The air was driven from him as Hermione launched herself at him in a tight embrace, her hair filling his face. "Hermione?"

"I thought you were dead," she all but whimpered, releasing him to look at his face.

"When Hagrid brought you back in his arms…we…we thought the worst had happened," she said softly. "You were so pale, so _cold_…and you had no pulse. Neville was the one who brought you here." She waved a hand at the prone figure. "But he passed out within moments of carrying you through the door. This was the safest place we could think of, what with Grimmauld Place being compromised and all…"

Harry looked around, confused. "Why are we in Bill and Fleur's cottage?" he asked, bewildered. "Shouldn't we be out fighting? Voldemort is still out there!"

"Oh, Harry…" Hermione looked down. "People lost the will to fight when they saw you lying there. There was a battle, but it only lasted for an hour before people began to surrender. Most were students trying to save their skins and hoping that Voldemort would be merciful. Only the purebloods and halfbloods survived though." She squeezed her eyes shut, looking sickened. Luna touched her shoulder sympathetically.

"All of the muggleborns were lined up and slaughtered," Seamus continued for Hermione. His blue eyes darkened. "A few managed to escape, but the known muggleborns were called out by some of the others in an effort to please You-Know-Who. We lost a few members of the D.A."

Harry's mouth was dry, and licking his lips didn't help. "Who?" he asked, dreading the answers.

"We won't know for a while yet. But I know Justin Finch-Fletchley was a victim. I saw him get his throat cut." Seamus' eyes shut, mirroring Hermione's horror-stricken expression.

"Colin Creevey is dead too," Hermione whispered. "But it wasn't during the 'purging' of the muggleborns. He went down during the battle." Harry's stomach clenched, and his fists curled into white-knuckled balls.

"I'll kill him," he said between gritted teeth. "I swear I'm going back there, and I'm going to kill him."

"It's too late to go back now," Hermione insisted. "It was all we could do to get out of there with you. The Order is doing their best to rescue the surviving muggleborns and those targeted by the Death Eaters. Voldemort apparated away as soon as he'd ordered the muggleborns to be killed."

"Why didn't anybody go after him? It isn't as though he has any horcruxes left!"

With a sideways glance to Seamus and Luna, who were a bit confused by the term, Hermione reluctantly responded. "Neville did manage to kill Nagini," she said slowly. "But Voldemort had numerous wards surrounding him. He knew what we were doing with his horcruxes. He had protective measures in place. By the time we were able to even organize our thoughts enough to attack him, the battle was over. There was nothing we could do. Not if we wanted to survive to fight another day."

Harry buried his face in his hands. "Slaughtered," he murmured. "Turned in by their friends and slaughtered like animals…"

"Some survived," Hermione reminded him gently. He looked up at her, his eyes blazing with hidden fire.

"I'm glad some survived. Really, Hermione, I am. But I will never forgive what Voldemort and his followers have done. Never." He drew in a shuddering breath. "Where is everyone else then? You said this was the safest place?"

"Safest for us to apparate to. I told Tonks to meet us here. The others went into hiding. We know where a few are heading, but there's a lot of others who we won't be seeing for a long time."

"Where's Ron?" He held his breath anxiously, almost afraid for the answer.

Hermione's face was grave. "The entire Weasley family went back to the Burrow for now. The wards there were rebuilt, so they should hold for a little while. They lost a few members during the battle. Ron's with them now." Seeing the unspoken question in Harry's eyes, she sighed. "They lost Charlie during the first part of the battle, before you went to meet Voldemort in the forest. Percy died saving Fred when a part of the wall fell. And after you were brought back…" Her eyes watered and a tear slipped down her cheek. "A few people stood up against Voldemort. Neville was one of them, but we've managed to heal his burns and that head wound of his. He was the lucky one. The others who tried to duel Voldemort didn't…didn't make it. Harry, Ginny's dead."

Time seemed to stop. Harry stared at Hermione, his throat tight and chest aching. _Ginny_. The fiery redhead who'd bravely stood up to the Carrows all year, who'd done nothing but support him from the moment he'd saved her in the Chamber, who he'd fallen in love with steadily for the last year, separated though they were. _Gone_.

"Dead?" he repeated hoarsely. Hermione reached out and hugged him again.

"I'm so sorry," she cried, the pain of losing her friend choking her voice.

"How?" Harry asked. "Was it quick?"

Seamus spoke up, his voice quiet. "She took a Killing curse for Dean Thomas. She knew what she was doing."

"She and Dean used to have a connection," Harry said hollowly. "She probably remembered that. Is Dean okay?"

"Bellatrix got him from behind when he went to check Ginny's body." Anger colored the sorrow in Seamus' voice. "He never saw it coming."

"They died quickly and bravely," Luna said quietly from her position on the floor. "There was no pain for them." Harry only nodded, grief making him unable to speak.

"The Weasley's took it hard," Hermione continued. "Ron naturally is blaming himself for letting Ginny run forward like that. Not that he could have stopped her – you know how Ginny was."

"It wasn't his fault," Harry agreed sadly. "She never did listen to him." They all fell silent for a moment. "So now what?"

"Now, we go into hiding. We-"

Hermione's voice was cut off. There was the crack of apparition, and Tonks strode forward, Lupin's arm slung around her shoulders. He leaned heavily on her, blood streaming from a gash in his thigh. Both blinked at the sight of Harry.

"Wotcher, Harry," Tonks grinned at him. "I must say I'm surprised to see you alive and well. And yet, we are talking about Harry Potter after all, the Boy Who Lived. You would be the one person to survive the Killing curse not once but twice. You'll have to save the story for later though." The grin slipped from her face. "I'm afraid our location's been compromised. I came here only to warn you, and to bring you to our next location." Several sharp pops outside warned them of impending danger, and Tonks dragged Lupin forward with her.

"Hello, Harry," he said, breathless with pain. "Like Tonks said, we'll have to wait to hear your story. For now, all of you grab this." He pulled out a coat hanger, which they all reached out to touch. Seamus dragged Neville up with him, holding tightly to the unconscious young man. With Lupin's whispered password, the familiar tugging yanked them away. Shell Cottage faded as they Portkeyed to safety. A few flashes of light shone in the now empty cottage, and the few Death Eaters milled about, having just missed their quarry by seconds. The Dark lord would not be pleased.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** I am awful with European geography, and I've never had the pleasure of visiting England. Please forgive me if there are inaccuracies with the geography mentioned in this chapter (as well as subsequent chapters). I mean no offense, and I did attempt to research a few places, to be on the safe side. :) The story will start to pick up within the next chapter or so, but for now, enjoy this chapter!

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><p>The first thing Harry noticed when the world stopped spinning was the amount of <em>green<em>. He turned, taking in their surroundings. Soft green foothills and rougher mountainous regions surrounded them, with a large lake reflecting the clouds above nestled amongst them. He spotted several tents pitched relatively near the water, several figures milling about and ducking in and out of tents. Here and there, more people portkeyed in.

"Where are we?" asked Hermione. Lupin answered her, still leaning against Tonks.

"We're near Scafell Pike," he replied. "A bit random, granted, but the Order has spent several months making this place Unplottable, as well as heavily warding it against You-Know-Who and his death eaters. We are planning on securing it under the Fidelius Charm eventually, but in light of recent death eater activity, we held off on doing so, for the sake of any refugees from the war. However, rest assured that there are wards against simply apparating here. You have to have a portkey that is keyed in, as well as the password to activate them."

"But couldn't a death eater torture a portkey holder for the password?" Hermione frowned. "It would be too easy to figure out who else holds a portkey."

"There is a distress password set on them," Tonks answered. "Those of us holding portkeys know the danger they present. If we ever were compromised, we'd only need to speak the other password, and the portkey would self-destruct. Whoever was in possession of the portkey would no doubt be subject to torment and death, but such a fate would be far better than to doom all of the Wizarding world."

"And muggles alike," Hermione added. Harry glanced at her.

"Actually, I doubt Voldemort will attempt to enslave the muggles," he mused. "Even though he believes them to be inferior, he's still afraid of them. He grew up in an orphanage remember? He remembers how muggles are afraid of the unknown. Plus, they've got advancements in technology that we don't have. He wouldn't want to risk stirring up more trouble than it's worth."

"I think you've got a point," Lupin agreed. "You-Know-Who has his sights on one goal – to cleanse the Wizarding world of what he deems filth, and to restore the Wizarding world to its former glory, with him as his leader. The muggle world does not interest him."

"Well, can't we go hide out in the muggle world?" Seamus piped up.

Surprisingly, it was Neville who answered, having awoken at last. "And put innocent people in danger?" he asked. His eyes widened upon seeing Harry, but he refrained from commenting. "Before, the death eaters attacked the muggles to invoke a fear response in the wizards and witches. The muggles didn't have an explanation for it all, but by now, they're sure to have passed it off as a natural occurrence. If we were to try to blend into the muggle world, Voldemort would know, and then he really would attack them, in order to get to us. By running to the muggles, we make it worth the effort to try to eradicate them."

"So now we must make the best of our situation. Ron, Hermione and I have managed to stay hidden and on the run for several months now. This shouldn't be too different." Harry shrugged.

"There were only three of us, not half a nation," Hermione reminded him. "How many people know about this place?"

"Right now, just the Order and a few others from the Ministry. We did our best to get as many out from Hogwarts as possible. There are other safe camps set up at other locations, but this is our new headquarters, if you will. You weren't the only ones busy these last few months," Tonks explained, as the group finally began to make their way towards the campsite. "The Order has been busy squirreling away those threatened by You-Know-Who and the death eaters. The other camps are keeping muggleborn families safe, as well as several other families deemed bloodtraitors."

"Like she said, this is our new headquarters," Lupin continued. "We had a few outside members within the Ministry and from St. Mungo's and the like, so we shouldn't be too short on people here. If anything, I'd say things are about to get pretty crowded, once everyone gets here. We've stocked up on emergency supplies, but those will be used up eventually. One can only hope they last us for a while. At least until we can mobilize some raiding parties."

The group fell silent as they entered the camp. Almost immediately, Kingsley Shacklebolt approached them. "The last words that Albus Dumbledore said to the pair of us," he said, brandishing his wand. "What were they?"

"Harry is the best hope we have. Trust him," replied Lupin tiredly. Kingsley nodded and put his wand away before stepping forward to take over supporting his weight. Tonks grateful sank out from under her husband's heavy arm.

"Hit with a cutting hex," she explained. "I haven't had time to mend it."

"No matter. We have a medical station set up a few tents away," Kingsley replied. "Those of you who are injured, follow me. That includes you, Potter. I don't know how you managed it, but I must say, seeing you alive and kicking is quite the relief. You're going to be bombarded with questions once people notice you."

"I know," Harry replied with a sigh. "I'm used to it, sir."

"I'm rather used to the lack of explanations," Neville joked. "Not this time though. You owe us one, Harry." Nodding, Harry promised to do so once they were inside.

Thankfully, people were too busy bustling about, nursing minor injuries and whispering with one another. The group was able to duck into a tent without gathering attention.

"Explain to me why Mr. Potter is standing in my tent, very much alive and very much not dead, as I was told." Madame Pomfrey came forward, relief on her face.

"It's a rather confusing story," Harry began. "I'm not quite sure of everything myself-"

"Hold on a moment, dear," interrupted the nurse, as she noticed the blood caking Lupin's leg. "Remus, what _have_ you done to yourself."

"Caught off guard by a death eater," he grimaced, as Kingsley helped him to a chair. "Seems to be a simple slicing hex though, nothing too serious."

"I'll be the judge of that," Pomfrey retorted, as she waved her wand over him. "Although it would seem you are right. Nothing a few healing charms won't fix." In moments, the wound was closing up. A few more flicks of the wand repaired the tear in Lupin's clothing. "There you are then. Now. Mr. Potter, if you would be so kind…"

Harry stepped forward, taking Lupin's place. The mediwitch again waved her wand over him, the diagnostic spells appearing in the air before her. "Well, it would seem you are in perfect health, if a bit underweight. Though I daresay that would be due to your escapades across the English countryside these past few months?" She gazed sternly at him. "Still, that can be amended, if our rations are able to hold up anyway. Moving on then. Do explain to me how it is that you seemingly died and were left without a pulse, yet are now standing before me?"

Harry shrugged. "It's kind of a long story," he said uneasily. "And there is some sensitive information. I'm going to have to ask you all to swear on your magic not to reveal this information to anyone else." The adults gazed at him for a few short moments, before Kingsley pulled out his wand, shrugging.

"I trust you, Harry," he said simply. "I, Kingsley Shacklebolt, do hereby swear on my magic to never divulge the information revealed by Mr. Potter at this moment." His wand tip glowed for a moment, then faded. The others followed his example.

Satisfied, Harry continued. First, he explained what Horcruxes were, and then revealed that Voldemort had in fact created several Horcruxes. His audience listened in horrified silence, while Hermione glanced around at each expression. "So after we destroyed the locket and the cup, we figured out that the next likely artifact would be Ravenclaw's diadem, which we assumed would be hidden at Hogwarts, which it was. Goyle's fiendfyre spell destroyed the diadem along with the Room of Requirement, which was a shame. All we had left after that was Nagini, or so we thought." Harry grimaced at the next memory. "After Voldemort turned on Snape, he left, and we were able to collect the memories Snape gave us as he died. That was when we learned that there was one more Horcrux – me." Lupin coughed, startled.

"The night my parents were killed…the night I survived the Killing curse, Voldemort's spell rebounded off me and destroyed him, thanks to the protection of my mother's love. However, Dumbledore suspected that a small piece of Voldemort's soul was torn from him that night, and that was why I have this scar upon my forehead. While I was viewing Snape's memories, I learned that the only way to defeat Voldemort would be for me to willingly accept death." Harry shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Hermione, who stared back at him keenly.

"I was willing to do whatever it took to defeat him. I had hoped that by having him destroy his own Horcrux, it'd weaken him enough for the rest of you to take him down. I guess things didn't work out. I mean, we accomplished what we'd set out to do," here, he looked at Hermione, who pursed her lips and nodded, "but it would seem he wasn't as weakened as we'd hoped. However, since my dying was an effort to strike at Voldemort, it apparently didn't count as a real death. Since I died for everyone else, I must have recreated another version of my mother's blood protection."

"Which then allowed Voldemort to destroy the Horcrux inside of you without killing you in the process," Hermione guessed, nodding primly. Harry returned the nod.

Everyone else had been silent to this point. Luna finally spoke up. "So he's no longer immortal then?" she asked.

"He's as mortal as you and I," Harry confirmed. "But now, it looks like we won't get another shot at him; he'll be surrounded by the Death Eaters and now the rest of the people he forces into service."

"Well, then, we'll have to fight to get to him." Neville allowed Madame Pomfrey to run her diagnostic spell on him, before her wand moved through the air, healing his wounds. "We can't let that maniac rule over the Wizarding world. And we don't want him creating any more Horcuxes. It will be easy for him to do."

"But he knows we know about them," Hermione mused. "He knows they're vulnerable, and that we'd destroy them if we have the chance. Either the protections on them will be upped – very much so – or he'll find another way to achieve immortality. The Horcruxes were his secret, but they are a secret no longer."

Harry shrugged. "I guess we'll figure that out when we get to that point."

For a few more minutes, they continued discussing what could possibly be in their future. Finally, the young students were excused, leaving the adults to talk in peace.

As the four left the medical tent, Harry spotted a shock of red hair. Ron and the Weasley family were slowly making their way through the tents. To the right, someone shouted, "It's Harry Potter!"

Shouts of "He's alive?" and "The Boy-Who-Lived!" filled the air, as Harry pushed past the crowd beginning to form. The small crowd hushed, however, as Harry came face to face with Ron, Hermione standing just behind him.

For a moment, the two best friends just gazed at each other, disbelief and heartbreak in Ron's eyes, and simple grief in Harry's. Understanding encompassed the both of them, and they suddenly embraced roughly. "I thought you were dead, mate," Ron said, his voice muffled where it was buried in Harry's shoulder. "The thought of losing you _and_ Charlie, Percy, and Ginny…"

"I know," Harry said softly. His eyes burned with unshed tears. Around them, the crowd dispersed, allowing the two a moment alone. There would be time to celebrate their hero's survival later. For now, the time to grieve was at hand.

"What are we going to do, Harry?" Ron's voice was broken. The two separated, and Hermione stepped forward. Ron hugged her to him tightly, finding comfort in her as well. Harry let them embrace for a moment, before he too stepped forward and joined the hug.

"We'll fight, Ron," he said, determination coloring his words. "We'll fight, and show Voldemort that he hasn't broken us, that he never will. We'll make him pay for the evil he's caused, and when we do, there will be the devil to pay."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Sorry there was no update last week. I had a family matter that needed taking care of, and I didn't want to just rush the chapter and thus sacrifice quality.

Longer chapter this time, so yay! Also - there will be OOC-ness in this story. I will warn you about this now. Not terribly drastic, but things like Luna no longer being the dreamy, innocent person she's always been, and Harry being far harsher than he used to be. This is a war, and they are rebels - war changes people. If you don't like their personality shifts, you don't have to read. I personally think I still kept quite a bit of their underlying personalities, despite some harsher changes to their mannerisms.

That said, yes, events are still building up, but if I remember correctly, there will be more action next time around. This chapter was meant to set up their new way of living. :) Hope you enjoy! Please leave a review and let me know what you think! 

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><p>Six years.<p>

For six, long years, they had been in hiding. He would laugh directly in the face of anyone who even dared think for one moment that the life of a rebel was exciting and dangerously fun. Yes, the occasional duel and heart-pounding moment of escaping from the recently established Enforcers made life a bit exciting.

It would surprise most then that a life in hiding was rather dull.

Harry held his breath unnecessarily as the Enforcer brushed past his nook. The heavy-duty Disillusionment spell combined with his carefully honed skills would keep the man from detecting him, unless he was part werewolf. In which case, Harry knew he'd be sniffed out immediately. Nonetheless, the small, rational part of him was still unfamiliar with the whole concept of stealth and though he knew he'd only be discovered on a stroke of very bad luck, Harry still felt the tiny thrill of fear, and it was this fear that bid him to hold his breath.

It helped to calm him, somewhat, as the thin, weepy-eyed man stopped, his gaze sweeping the area. A second Enforcer joined the first, this one considerably larger. "Where'd he go?" The first man shrugged, brow furrowed. "You lost him?" The larger Enforcer towered over the smaller man, but to his credit, the thin man didn't cower or budge.

"If he's one o' them Nixes, he's got more tricks up his sleeve than the usual folk we catch wandering around after curfew. Keep your eyes and ears open, Al."

Al glared down at the smaller man for a few more seconds, then relented. "Fine, but if we get in trouble with the uppers, I'm putting it all on you."

"Fair enough." The thin man glanced around them. "And if we _do_ catch him, I'm taking all the credit. It's only fair, if I get all the blame." Al protested, but the other man didn't respond. Instead, he pulled out his wand.

"If you're gonna catch a Nix, you gotta think like a Nix," he said in a low voice. "Homenum Revelio." Harry gritted his teeth, hand clenched around the wand.

"Absconditus," he whispered. The counter spell washed over him only moments before he felt the revealing charm hit him. Again, Harry held his breath, but just as it had during training, the counter spell worked, and the revealing charm turned up nothing.

"He must be farther ahead than we thought," the thin man mused. Al scratched his head.

"Or he apparated."

"We didn't hear anything though."

"If he really was a Nix, then he would have cast a silencing charm," Al said defensively. "You said to think like a Nix, didn't you?" He received a sharp stinging hex, upon which he yelped.

"Don't use my words against me," the other Enforcer snarled. "Fine, we lost him. Wish we'd have gotten a tracking spell off on him; could've taught him why it's not smart to break curfew. Let's finish our rounds, then go at least report to the boss, even if we have nothing to show for it. He'll understand. It's the Shadow of the Phoenix we're talking about. They're nothing but tricky, the lot of them. If only our High lord had eliminated them all when he had the chance."

"Talk like that will get you the Cruciatus," Al warned. Their voices faded as they continued their rounds down the street.

Harry waited for another five minutes to make sure they were really gone. Breathing a sigh of relief, he continued his own way down the street, keeping to the shadows. He was close to his destination, but chose to take an extra half hour winding around blocks and through alleys, always keeping a careful eye on his surroundings. Finally, he stopped in front of a building, and climbed the steps. Knowing he had already tripped the wards surrounding the building and alerted its owner, he tapped his wand against the center of the scuffed wooden door, hearing a muffle click. Having been keyed in by his magical signature, Harry entered the house just as Luna approached.

"You're later than you normally are," she said in greeting. "Were you followed?"

Harry nodded. "I Apparated to town right as a patrol was going by." He grimaced. "Hopefully, they were just early. New patrol times would only be a nuisance. It was only two Enforcers though; they didn't have any fresh recruits with them."

"And Neville?"

"Coming down a different path with your delivery." Luna nodded, then motioned for Harry to follow her. He did so, rolling his shoulders tiredly as they walked up a narrow set of stairs. "How many this week?"

"Just the one family I told you about, plus a loner. Special case, that one. Her neighbors found her out and turned her in for the reward. Her mum was killed in the process. There was no one else living in the house with them. As it were, we barely got her out before the Eliminators arrived. People are getting desperate enough to turn on each other."

"People always turn on each other; it isn't a matter of desperation." Harry's tone was grim, as they stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway. "That's human nature. We're selfish enough to always be thinking about how to better ourselves."

"Living in the times we are only make it worse though," Luna pointed out. "Perfectly good people will change for the worse if pushed hard enough. Each day the Dark lord is in power is another day in which conditions become tougher, even for the purest of blood. Only those in the Elite have a life worth living. People make the best of the situation as they can. If that means turning in a friend just to have another week of food, then so be it."

Harry looked over at the blonde. She smiled reassuringly at him. "But then, that's what makes the Shadow of the Phoenix a symbol of hope. We've kept our humanity, maintained our morals for the most part – training is the only questionable bit – and we provide sanctuary and comfort to those who ask. People are starting to become more and more sympathetic to our cause."

"Could have fooled me. For all the refugees, there aren't many new recruits willing to go on the front lines. Scratch that, there aren't many new recruits because most can't even last through training." Harry sighed. "Speaking of refugees, let's get these ones to safety."

Luna pushed the door open, revealing a heavily warded, simply furnished room full of beds. Most were empty and neatly made, while a few showed signs of inhabitants. A young girl and a boy, twins that looked to be around 8 or 9, laughed as they jumped between two beds, while their teenaged sister quietly knitted, smiling happily at their antics. Their mother was conversing softly with another young woman with a sad and weary face, and the father was carving as he listened to their conversation.

"The parents are Muggles," Luna said quietly. "They knew she was special growing up, with all the unexplainable events caused by accidental magic, but they never guessed that Elena was magical." She pointed out the young teen to Harry. "Since there are no school letters being sent out to Muggleborns anymore, they didn't figure out until a month ago that she was a witch. They only found out when the Eliminators showed up." Harry nodded in understanding; such a case was becoming more and more common as the years passed. "Fortunately, one of our informants found out about the family, and warned us. We got there just in time, but it was quite the fight. The kids weren't too shaken up though. They were fascinated by the pretty lights."

Luna looked back at the family. "You'll have to explain stuff to them, about why they have to go into hiding. I explained what I could about the history of the Wizarding world, so they know about the first war and Grindelwald, and how the Dark lord is worse than he is. They know about the Death Eaters and how most became Eliminators, and they know how some of the half-bloods chose to become Enforcers to try to raise their status, but they don't fully understand why _they_ have to hide while others don't."

With a sigh, Harry looked over at the six refugees. "Someone at Headquarters will be able to explain it properly to them," he said. "I'm sick of the explanations, frankly." He lowered his voice. "Six years, Luna. We've been fighting for six years, and we're no closer to our goal. I hate having to see families torn apart, and I hate having to explain to them that the majority of our world sees them as no higher than animals." Harry ran a hair through his hair. "Sorry; I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine." Luna cut him off with a small smile. "We're all tired. I know. I _get_ it. But I also know we're not about to just give up. We've fought too hard for everything to just give up. We'll figure things out eventually." She cocked her head suddenly, her shoulders tensing. "The wards just went off." The momentary tension drained from her, and she relaxed. "It's just Neville." Harry relaxed as well, having reacted similarly. "I'll go meet him in the front hall and collect the ingredients from him. You get the family ready for transport."

"Tell Neville I'll be down in a moment," he grinned, knowing the two planned to steal a private moment before he came down with the refugees. "That is, if you remember to."

"I still need a few human samples for testing, and you would make a fine specimen," she quipped, at which Harry only grinned further. "Wipe that silly smile off your face, and just get them ready. You don't want to miss your chance between patrols."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said with a mock salute. Luna quirked an eyebrow at him, but otherwise ignored the mockery as she left the room. Harry turned back to the room, and approached the parents and older girl. He noted the deep sadness in the young woman's eyes, but didn't comment. Instead, he looked over at the father, who set down the small lump of wood in his hands and stood.

"Are you Alistair?" the man asked. "Luna said you were one of the leaders of the rebellion." Harry nodded, recognizing the pseudo-name he went by. It wasn't common knowledge that Harry Potter had survived the Purging, and to all but those stationed at Headquarters, Harry Potter was dead. It was only a matter of time before someone recognized him, but Harry wanted to remain anonymous as long as possible – after all, being dead made it easier for him to sneak around and gave him time to figure out how to kill the Dark lord once and for all. Voldemort would not rest until he had killed Harry if he knew. Things were dangerous enough as a rebel; Harry himself was already in danger because he was Alistair Hunter, leader of the Nixes. He didn't need an enraged Dark lord after him in addition to everything else he had going on.

"I'm Alistair," Harry greeted, his hand outstretched. The man shook it heartily.

"Clarence Richardson. This is my wife, Naomi. The girl over there is my daughter Kendra and the two little ones are Katie and Keith."

"I'm Johanna Trent," spoke up the young woman. Harry nodded at her.

"It's nice to meet you all. I take it Luna has told you why I'm here?"

Johanna nodded her head, but Naomi glanced at her husband. "She did, but I don't really understand it all. I know those men meant to kill us – that much is clear, and Luna explained to us about Kendra's magic." She said the word in awe, as though it was all so foreign to her. It probably was, Harry reminded himself. Luna had said Johanna had been living with her mother and her neighbors had turned them in, which meant they had been living as witches. He'd wager a guess that she had been living on her own before the war, but had brought her mother to live with her in an effort to protect her. It was sad, really, that things had turned out the way they had.

Naomi continued, breaking through his thoughts. "But why do they want to kill us? What have we done to them?"

"You exist," Harry said bluntly. "The man who rules this world is a very evil man; he is more monster than human now. He believes only those who come from a long line of magic are worth existing. Those who are not magic by blood, but have, as he puts it, 'stolen their magic' are nothing more than thieves who present a danger to our society and must therefore be eliminated, like a common pest."

"And this 'Dark lord', as Luna called him…he has people who feel the same way following him?"

Harry nodded. "You escaped from some of them, didn't you?" The couple nodded. "The ones sent to kill you are called Eliminators. Once, they were called Death Eaters, and they were not nearly as fearsome as they are now – they're much, much crueler and bolder than they once were. I've been fighting them since I was in my 4th year at Hogwarts, which used to be a school for magical students. After Voldemort took over, he made them into the strike force they are today. A lot of the pureblood wizards and witches chose to become Enforcers – they're like his version of our police force. They make sure people don't break curfew, enter restricted areas, and make sure that the halfbloods never enter the pureblood areas. They also report and capture any Muggleborns they find and turn them over to the Eliminators to be…destroyed. They're quite good at what they do – there are rewards for anyone who turns in a Muggleborn, and even greater rewards for becoming an Enforcer. Only the strongest, most magically gifted, or smartest are accepted though. As dumb as lot of the lower ranks can be, they are still a deadly and very efficient force. They can track almost anybody once they know their magical signature."

Naomi paled. "How haven't they found us yet then?" she asked, her voice a near-whisper. "The Eliminators saw us escaping!" Harry smiled reassuringly.

"Just like the Eliminators and Enforcers, we also have our own strike force," he said, his voice proud. "We have special teams, called Blitzers, designed to go in and help evacuate Muggleborns and their families. They're the most proficient with stealth, offensive and defensive magic and even weapons and hand-to-hand combat. They're good at what they do. When you were evacuated, they were able to cast spells that prevented you from being tracked. We have a few people back at Headquarters who are constantly researching and reworking spells to help us fight back, and again, they are good at what they do.

"Then there are the Recon agents – those who run solo or in pairs are called Rangers, while the Sweepers stay in groups. I'm a Ranger. I usually work by myself unless I'm transporting refugees; I feel partners are more of a liability. It is my job to smuggle people like you to safe camps and smuggle supplies to our safe houses. Luna, as you know, runs this safe house, but outwardly, she is a Potions Master. She supplies us with necessary potions of course, but if her house is ever searched, that is all the Enforcers will ever be able to find. The wards that we've placed here will make sure of that."

Clarence looked over where the twins were still playing. "Luna may be safe here, especially with these wards you're talking about. But you're a leader; you've got to be pretty well known as the leader of the Phoenixes. Wouldn't it be dangerous for you to leave your Headquarters?"

Harry shrugged. "I may be a leader, but I can't simply sit around and let others endanger themselves on my orders. And actually, no one outside of the Phoenixes has ever seen me and remembered my face – we erase memories where we need to. I have a few aliases for when I need to use them. It really isn't any more dangerous for me to be in the field than it is for any other agent, and it isn't like I'm alone. There are lots of Recon teams out there besides the specific ones I told you about, and we don't really have names for them. Some steal supplies when we need them, others scout for information or scout for new recruits. We have a surprising amount of moles within the system, more than I had originally hoped to have. It really is a lot more efficient than you would think."

The adults looked torn between being impressed and being confused. Johanna, on the other hand, looked interested, fire burning in her warm brown eyes. "And you take on new recruits often?" she asked, fists clenched. Harry met her eyes.

"We try to, yes," he replied. "But the testing is hard – you have to undergo intensive training to even apply to be a Phoenix. We even put trainees through torture sessions, to make sure they can be trusted with inside information, although we heal them afterwards," he added, seeing the couple's horrified reactions. "If you don't make it, we wipe your memories of training and even of the Shadow of the Phoenix itself – no loose ends, you see. We really only increase our numbers by about 10 or fewer recruits a month, if that."

"I want to join."

Harry crossed his arms. "You heard me, yes? It isn't easy becoming a new recruit. You have to be able to follow orders without question, and many parts of training will be very painful."

"I want to join." Johanna's eyes were brimming with unshed tears, but she lifted her chin. Clarence and Naomi were quiet, their eyes focused on her. "I watched my mother die before my eyes. I want nothing more than for this dark time to end, so that no one else has to watch their entire world fall apart in the blink of an eye." She stepped closer, lowering her voice so Naomi and Clarence wouldn't hear. "And I'm not blind. I went to Hogwarts. I know who you really are."

Harry stepped back abruptly, caught off guard. Johanna looked intently at him. "I've seen you before," she said. "I was in my fourth year when things fell apart. And I always had hope, even when it seemed there was none. Who else would have been able to survive what you did?"

Harry had drawn his wand, to the couple's alarm, and was forming the spell 'Obliviate', when Johanna grabbed his arm. "Harry," she whispered. "Please. Don't. Don't take away the only hope I have left. Let me apply for training, and see if I have what it takes. If I fail, then fine. Erase my memory. But until then, I promise, I won't reveal your secret."

She gazed steadily at him, not looking away as Harry searched her eyes. He saw nothing but honesty and determination, and after a long moment, he nodded. "Fine. But if I think for even one second there is any doubt in you, I will not hesitate to erase your memories. I'll bring you back to Headquarters myself, once Neville and I have helped the Richardson's to safety. Do you have a wand?"

Johanna nodded. "Luna took it for safekeeping, and I let her. I understand how hard it is to trust anyone these days."

"Fair enough. Since we're going to Headquarters, I'm sure you'll understand why you won't get it back until after we've interviewed you with Veritaserum." Again, she nodded. "Once we've determined you're telling the truth, you'll get it back and your training will start."

"You won't trust me even though I'm Muggleborn?"

"Unlike the Enforcers, we don't test your blood. We don't care what your blood status is." Harry said. His eyes hardened. "So we can only take you at your word. Veritaserum and Legilimency are the only ways we have of divining whether you are telling the truth. Do you understand?"

"I get it."

"Good. Now, let's head downstairs. Neville and Luna will have finished their business by now."

"We did." Harry turned, as Neville walked into the room, followed by Luna. "Why so serious, Alistair?" Neville asked, grinning at Harry. The latter shrugged, a grin slipping onto his face.

"We've got a new possible recruit," he said, jabbing his thumb at Johanna while he slipped his wand back into its holster. Neville approached her and studied her for a moment, before nodding to her.

"Pleasure to meet you." Neville turned back to Harry. "Ready to go?" Harry nodded, and motioned to Clarence.

"Gather your things. We'll be Apparating right outside – we won't make you move through town – but you'll all have to be quiet. We wouldn't want to draw attention."

"Aren't there wards for that?" asked Johanna. "To hide us from the public view?"

"There are, but they work best when we try our best to accommodate them," Luna put in. She smiled at the girl. "You better gather your things too. You won't have much use for them at Headquarters, as we provide you with what you need, but they'll make your tent feel more like home." Johanna nodded and went to pack.

Harry turned to Luna. "Let us know if you need anything between now and next week. Otherwise, I'll wait for your message about new refugees." The blonde nodded.

"Best of luck getting back." She smiled softly at Neville. "Remember to let me know if anything changes. I know you said last time that Hermione thinks Voldemort found another way to immortality."

Harry nodded. "He wouldn't use Horcruxes again – he knows that we know about them. She's researching other ways to achieve immortality, but so far, she's found nothing."

"Are she and Ron still fighting?"

He rolled his eyes. "Unfortunately yes, only this time, I don't have the time or the energy to be the middle man. They're working it out on their own, but suffice to say they have agreed that a relationship between the two of them simply won't work. They're too different. I give it a week or so before they're back on speaking terms though."

"Well, we can't ask for miracles." Luna sighed. "It's for the best though." Harry agreed, as Clarence, Naomi, Johanna and the kids approached. "Very well, it's time for you to be off. Let the patrol pass before you leave; it shouldn't be more than a few minutes now." Neville and Harry drew their wands once more, and the group trudged downstairs. For a few minutes, Luna peered through the windows, before she nodded. "There goes the patrol. You're good to go."

Neville pressed a soft kiss to Luna's cheek, before opening the door. The group crowded onto the front step, the family taking Neville's arm and Johanna taking Harry's and with the crack of Apparition, they vanished, leaving Luna to close the door behind them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** My apologies again for the long wait. It's been a very chaotic last few weeks, but hopefully I'll be able to get back into the swing of things and have regular updates soon. Had a small bit of writer's block, but I worked hard on this chapter for you. Action will be picking up soon (next chapter?), but there is still a bit of set up left. :) Hope you enjoy this next chapter. Please, leave reviews so I can know if this is worth continuing! Otherwise, I may stop and delete it altogether. :/ Not sure if I want to continue or not. Anyhoo, enjoy!

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><p>"Sirs, Athena asked that you visit her upon your return. She says it's urgent."<p>

Harry suppressed the urge to shove the man to the side, and instead nodded with a simple, "Thank you," before continuing down the row of tents. Not even five seconds had passed after their appearance before yet another messenger had waylaid him. It was like they knew when he'd be Apparating into Headquarters. He sighed, looking over as Neville addressed him.

"I wonder what she wants…"

He and Harry shared a look briefly, before Neville turned to Johanna. "Welcome to Headquarters and all that jazz. I'll take you to a tent and we'll get you settled in for the time being. Your wand will be returned to you after you are validated." He glanced back at Harry. "I'll have to leave you there for now, though; it would seem there is a matter that requires our attention."

"Who's Athena?" Johanna furrowed her brow and then shrugged. "Unless that's top secret rebel information."

Harry scratched at the stubble coating his chin. "Athena is one of our researchers," he said slowly. "One of the best. That is all I can tell you at the moment."

The more people who knew Athena's true identity, the more dangerous it became for her. Athena was already well known as the best source of information and the top researcher and had already survived a few attempts on her life – as had Neville and Harry. All of the leaders and prominent members had. It was why they were constantly moving camps, why there were several Headquarters set up as bait. Now, it was never easy to tell where the leaders would be at any given moment and it provided more security for them. The hassle was worth it.

But if it were common knowledge that Hermione Granger had not, in fact, disappeared years before, and that she was the infamous Athena of the Nixes, then the attempts on her life would grow in number, and that information would find its way back to Voldemort. She would be in as much danger as Harry would be if his own survival got out.

Pulling aside a tent flap, Neville motioned inside, and the three of them ducked under the flap, blinking as their eyes adjusted to the darker interior. "This is home for the next few days while we validate you," Neville said. Johanna stepped to the small cot, dropping her bag down before she sat beside it.

"Am I a prisoner for now?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"No," Harry said. "But you will be under surveillance. You understand, of course. The validation process will be quick and painless, don't worry."

"That's not the part I worry about," Johanna muttered. "I only hope I can make it through the training. It's what I want now, more than anything else. I don't mind being held prisoner until then."

Harry shrugged. "It's too late to turn back now, so whatever doubts you have about training need to be put aside, or you _won't_ back it through. Good luck, Johanna. I truly hope you have what it takes. I'll check in with you after you're validated and training starts."

Receiving an affirmative nod from her, he turned and exited the tent, Neville ducking out after him. After a word with the wizard standing outside, he hurried his pace until he fell in line beside Harry.

"She'll be taken care of until they begin validating her," he informed the other young man. "She'll be fine, you know. I haven't seen a recruit with that much determination in a long time. It's personal to her." Harry agreed, his fists clenching.

"It shouldn't have been made personal," he said quietly.

"But H-Alistair, aren't you glad to have a new recruit? We need all the help we can get if we're going to ever get anywhere with this rebellion."

"Don't get me wrong; I'm glad. It's just…"

Neville paused in his steps, his gaze sorrowful. "War makes orphans," he reminded Harry gently. "War breaks apart families and loved ones. And unless we do something about it, all of this pain and death is going to continue. The Phoenixes can't save everyone. Not even you can."

"Athena said she had news for us." Harry's fists clenched tighter, and he strode forward, forcing Neville to speed up again to catch up. The other looked intently at him, but Harry kept his face expressionless, not allowing Neville to read his emotions easily.

"Just…promise you'll stop being so hard on yourself. Athena worries for you…we all do," Neville murmured. Harry ignored him, turning aside when they reached their destination. For all intents and purposes, it looked like an ordinary tent, but as Harry and Neville moved through the entrance, there was a warping of the air around them, the wards sensing their magical signature, and the illusion shifted. The interior grew in size, until they were standing in a massive space full of Transfigured bookshelves covered in books and stacks of parchment, quills and inkpots. A few tables rested in the middle of the tent accompanied by benches, cluttered with more parchment and other research paraphernalia. Over one of these tables huddled Hermione, who looked up at their arrival.

"You're back!" she crowed, setting aside her quill and standing to greet the two. She hugged Neville, then turned to Harry and hugged him as well. "You're late though; did you get the refugees out?"

Neville nodded. "We dropped them off at one of the camps. They'll be fine. We even brought back a new recruit." Hermione smiled at the news.

"Good. We can use all the help we can get."

"That's what I said," Neville laughed. "Sorry we're late. We Apparated in right as a patrol went past, so Harry and I had to split up."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "A patrol? Before their usual time?"

"We think it was an anomaly," Harry put in. "I think maybe they caught someone out past curfew earlier, so they were doing an extra sweep."

"Let's hope so. I don't enjoy the idea of needing to establish new patrol times," Hermione grumbled. "These were hard enough to figure out without a few Rangers getting caught. At least they were able to break away, though they really could have avoided the situation if only they'd-"

"You said you had something to tell us?"

Hermione blinked owlishly at the interruption, and she fixed Harry with a glare that showed her disapproval, but she accepted the change nonetheless. "Yes, I did," she said seriously. "I've sent for a few of the others, so they should be here soo-ah, there they are."

Three figures entered the tent, and Harry and Neville turned to greet them. Tonks of course waved at them with her usual grin, while Kingsley settled for a nod. Ron, on the other hand, came over and clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Good to see you, mate," he said cheerfully. Harry noticed he seemed to avoid looking in Hermione's direction, although the same could be said of her as well. He wasn't sure if it was a good sign she'd called Ron in as well, or if it was a bad sign – for all of them. Still, Harry greeted Ron in return, and stepped back so he could welcome Neville as well.

"Wotcher, Harry," Tonks smiled, stepping towards him. Harry smiled back at her.

"Hello, Tonks. Where's Remus?"

Tonks waved a hand in dismissal. "It's his turn to watch Teddy during important meetings," she said, laughing. "I told him I'd fill him in later if I felt like it." Harry laughed as well, as Hermione finally began speaking.

"I really wish I could have called you all here for a social visit," she said slowly, although Harry doubted she had wanted to call Ron over in the first place. It seemed the redhead had put aside their argument for the time being, however, because he was watching Hermione intently as she spoke. "This time, though, it's not good news. Voldemort's found a new way to create Horcruxes…and this time, they know how to defend themselves."

For a moment, the room was silent. Then, "what?"

Hermione glanced at Harry, her expression grim. "You heard me. He created Horcruxes again."

"He knows we know how to destroy them, right?"

"That's not the problem." Hermione drew in a deep breath. "I don't know why it's such a surprise, really. I mean, look at what happened with you! It was only a matter of time before…"

"Hermione, please explain," Harry pleaded. Beside him, Ron suddenly tensed.

"You don't mean to say he…" he began. Hermione nodded, cutting him off.

"That is exactly what I mean, Ron," she replied in a small voice. "Voldemort has bound Horcruxes to some of his original Death Eaters."

"How do you know?" Harry stepped forward. He could hear his pulse pounding in his ears; fear he hadn't felt in a long time gripped him, narrowing his vision until he was solely focused on Hermione and the words she spoke.

"We received a mysterious patronus," Hermione said, moving to the stack of papers on the table she'd been working at. "Unfortunately, we were unable to track its owner down, and whoever it was managed to alter their voice, so there are no clues as to who it was from."

"What kind of patronus was it?" Kingsley's arms were folded, and he studied Hermione as she spoke, his expression unreadable.

She shook her head as Ron opened his mouth, stopping him before he spoke. "Before you ask, yes, I already checked with Remus and Tonks. The patronus was neither theirs nor a copy of theirs, as it looked very different from either of their patronuses. So unless you know anybody else with a wolf for a patronus..."

Harry wracked his brains, but he couldn't remember ever seeing someone else with a wolf patronus, evil or not. "And you trusted this patronus' message?" he asked.

"I didn't at first." Hermione's tone seemed offended that he'd even think she could be stupid enough to trust an unrecognized patronus. "But it was strange, and the fact that we've been researching Voldemort's attempt at immortality for so long…that I did my research. Unfortunately, our mysterious informant was right." She pulled out a piece of parchment, reading from it carefully. "Listen to this: 'Ivor Selwyn was taken into custody last night in an attempt to validate the information given us by the unidentified patronus. He was the first Eliminator we were able to get ahold of without risking loss of life or limb. Upon awakening in his cell, Selwyn became increasingly violent and we were forced to put him into a stasis spell until we were able to interrogate him.'" Hermione looked up. "Our Interrogation team wasn't able to get a whole lot of information – Selwyn shut down, even under some heavy treatment. We did manage to succeed with Legilimency, and before he was able to hide it all, we did get two words – Rookwood, and Horcrux." Harry blinked uncomprehendingly. Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Augustus Rookwood, Harry. He used to be a Death Eater, remember? After Voldemort took over, he became the head of the Eliminators, well, before he went missing, that is. I took the liberty of tracking his whereabouts leading up to his disappearance. Turns out, he didn't go missing; he's been in hiding."

"So this Rookwood…you think he's a Horcrux?" Neville asked, his expression thoughtful. "It's definitely possible…after all, Harry was a Horcrux before Voldemort tried to kill him."

Hermione nodded. "I'm sure of it. If you'll recall, Voldemort knows how to bind a Horcrux to a living being – he did it with Nagini – and I'm sure he'd figure out a way to bind a Horcrux to a person just as easily."

"Voldemort is not a fool; he knows humans aren't immortal," Kingsley said, his tone indicating his uncertainty. "He wouldn't rely on such a weak protection, would he?"

"Think about it. Yes, a wizard is very much mortal," Hermione agreed. "And it's impossible to make one live forever with a simple spell. But we've established that it would be easy to make a Horcrux out of a person, so it would be almost nothing to make a new Horcrux every time another was destroyed – although he still damages his soul every time he does so. Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll destroy himself." She snorted angrily.

"Hermione," Harry murmured, reminding her to focus.

"Right." She glanced at him gratefully. "Anyways, we've established that he can create a new Horcrux for every one we destroy. However, these Horcruxes will be harder to destroy, because they can defend themselves. Before, there were protective spells put around inanimate objects, spells that, once broken, were useless. However, a wizard is able to defend himself, even going so far as to kill his attacker with one curse. Plus, it isn't a matter of simply tracking down the Horcrux and killing it. You have to catch it now."

"But who would be mad enough to allow themselves to be made into a Horcrux?" Tonks asked. She was pale, her eyes slightly horrified at the idea.

"Bellatrix would be mad enough," Ron muttered. Hermione nodded at him, agreeing. "But then again, this _is_ Voldemort we're talking about. He could easily force someone to become his Horcrux, or convince them that they are doing him a great service. Put a few protective wards around them himself, allow them to add their own protective measures, and suddenly he's got a near invincible Horcrux running around, keeping to the shadows."

"But those Horcruxes have adverse effects on whoever touches them," Harry pointed out. "Remember that locket?"

Hermione sighed. "I came to the conclusion that all of these Horcruxes – however many there are – have been overtaken by the soul fragment within. They aren't the same people anymore, Harry. They may still look and talk the same, but there will be significant personality damage, and maybe even slight physical damage. After all, that's how you got your scar."

Harry's fingers traced over the jagged scar on his forehead. "I never suffered a personality change," he argued, his hand dropping.

"Voldemort didn't know his soul piece was in you," Hermione countered. "Had he known, he would have been able to influence you much more than he did. Our fifth year, with all those visions and that inexplicable anger you felt at times…don't you remember how it felt? You said it felt like you were losing your mind, that there was something else controlling you."

His mind traced back to that year, and he remembered that feeling of exhilaration and anger as he, trapped in Nagini's body, struck again and again at Mr. Weasley. He remembered feeling excitement and burning rage when Voldemort did – and all of that was unintentional. "You're saying he could have influenced me to become darker had he known what I was?" he asked softly. Hermione set down the parchment.

"We were fortunate he never knew," she confirmed. "You would have lost a good deal of who you were had he known. The people he chooses to become his Horcruxes will never be quite the same, even if we were to figure out a way to destroy the Horcrux without destroying the host."

"Then you _are_ planning on killing these hosts," Kingsley stated. "You haven't mentioned any other ways."

"We must do what needs to be done," Hermione said defensively. "I don't like the idea of it, but it must be done."

"Do we know who these Horcruxes are? They could be anyone! There could be any number of them right now!" Neville put a steadying hand on Ron's shoulder, but the redhead shook it off. "How many does he have this time? Ten? Twenty? An army? When is it all going to end?"

"I don't know, Ronald," Hermione snapped. "I don't have all the answers."

"Well, isn't that lovely," Ron snarled back. "Nice of you to admit it at last." Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but was quickly cut off.

"That is enough!" The two whipped their gazes over to Harry, who stared at the two furiously. "I've had it with these arguments of yours. We've got enough problems with the war as it is, without you two idiots bickering amongst yourselves. I don't know what it is you're arguing about this time, but enough with the snapping at each others' throats. Ron, I know this all is overwhelming, but when has anything we've ever done been easy?" His best friend shifted uncomfortably, looking down at his feet. Harry turned to Hermione. "And you…you've helped us all tremendously, and the amount of information you've gotten is incredible. But you're losing sleep over it, and it's causing you to take it out on everyone around you. So I want you to take some time off. Find a good book to relax with – _not_ anything to do with all of this business – and calm. Down. That's an order," he added as an afterthought. Hermione glared at him, and for a moment, Harry felt like sinking back into the safety of the ground beneath him, although he forced himself to return her glare steadily. Finally, Hermione relented with a stiff nod. Being the chosen leader had its perks, he thought with a frustrated sigh.

"Thank you. I want the two of you to spend the afternoon talking with each other. No yelling or accusing. Just talking. Please. For the sanity of everyone in this tent, work this out. We can discuss what all of this means for the rebellion tomorrow. For now, let's just calm down," he said soothingly. His two friends nodded, Ron shooting Hermione a wary look as the brunette set aside her parchment and quills.

The situation having been defused, Hermione confirmed that she had told them everything she knew so far, and the group dispersed. Kingsley gave Harry an approving nod before slipping out of the tent, followed by Ron and Hermione while Tonks and Neville hung back.

"Those two have some serious talking to do," Tonks mused. "I hope they work out whatever their quarrel was this time. We can't afford to fight amongst ourselves. Not now. Not with this news we have now."

Harry shrugged. "It's no different than in the past," he said tiredly. "Whether it was me and Ron, or Ron and Hermione, we've always had a tendency to snap at each other. Like I told Neville, it will blow over in a week or so."

"For your sake, Harry, I hope it blows over sooner," Neville muttered. "They're going to drive you crazy sooner or later."

Harry laughed. "How do you know they haven't already?" he joked.

"Who do you think sent that patronus?" Tonks asked suddenly. Harry and Neville looked up at her, confused by the sudden topic change. "It's been eating away at me. I'm not sure if it's a trap of some sort, or if this person genuinely was trying to help but is unable to reveal themselves for some reason."

"If it were a trap, our information would have been wrong," Harry pointed out. "I don't have a clue as to who that wolf patronus belongs to. But Hermione did her research. We'll have to believe that Voldemort has indeed begun creating Horcruxes out of wizards now." He shuddered. "To think that such dark magic exists…it's terrifying. It was bad enough trying to hunt down the old Horcruxes, and now that there are hosts involved…"

"Things are going to get a lot darker and a lot more dangerous before this is all over," Neville agreed. "Hopefully we don't lose sight of who we are in the process."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the long wait between chapters. Between writer's block and life, it's hard to get these out in a timely fashion. But rest assured, I have not abandoned this story. It will just be a bit longer in coming. :) Enjoy!

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><p>Harry bit back the yawn that threatened to escape him – he didn't want to appear bored by the trainees, lest he discourage their efforts. But it had been quite the disruptive night for him. A slight scowl took its place in his expression as he reflected on the previous night's events.<p>

_The buzzing in his head awoke him, and for a moment, Harry lay where he was, eyes still closed, breathing slowly as he feigned sleep long enough to establish his surroundings. Knowing the wards had been tripped, he silenced them with a flick of his mind as his ears strained to catch even the slightest whisper of sound._

_There!_

_A soft footstep as the intruder stepped closer to him. His skin prickled uncomfortably as adrenaline coursed through him, and Harry forced himself to remain still. Suddenly, there was the brush of cloth as the intruder raised their arm and began to whisper a spell._

"_Avada-"_

_His body surged with energy as Harry lunged from the bed. His assailant was caught off guard, if the startled intake of air was anything to go by. Harry's arm darted out, catching the intruder in their throat and causing a strange choking sound to ring out in the night. Harry didn't pause as they gasped for breath, spinning around and kicking out their knee and driving them to the ground. With a final blow to the back of their neck, the attacker collapsed into a crumpled heap. Only then did he stop moving, his chest heaving from the sudden exertion._

_The flaps to his tent flew open, and Harry whirled around, his wand now in his hand. He lowered it upon spotting Seamus and Wyatt, the two assigned to guard him that night. They in turn lowered their own wands in favor of staring at the unconscious figure on the ground._

"_It's alright. I took care of him," Harry said, using one foot to flip back the hood of the mysterious assassin. "It's nobody I recognize. Must be a new recruit. In any case, he may not be of any use to us, but it's still worth seeing if we can get anything out of him. Go ahead and take him to a holding cell."_

_Wyatt stepped forward dutifully, mumbling an apology, which Harry waved off. Seamus stepped further into the tent as Wyatt bound and levitated the man and left with a brief nod to both._

"_Harry, this is why we insisted you have an assigned guard at night," he said pointedly. "And this is why we tried to insist upon having us right outside your tent. We don't do any good if we're two tents down."_

"_The wards alerted you, didn't they? Trust me to be able to hold them off long enough for backup to arrive," Harry muttered, running a hand tiredly through his already mussed hair._

"_You're lucky you woke up. What if you're not fast enough one night? What if they figure out a way to get past without setting off the alarm?"_

"_Then someone else will take my place as leader, and the rebellion will move on," Harry said, a hard edge to his voice. "There's a reason my survival is not common knowledge and why I go by an alias, and it's not just for my own protection. I know what losing me a second time would do to people; hence why only a few know, but that's the risk I take. I'm no different from any other person out there."_

_Seamus sighed, choosing to drop the matter once again. "Whatever you say, Harry. I'll let you get back to sleep, then. Guess this was another simple matter for you to solve, hm?" He turned and left without another word, leaving Harry to sigh in frustration as he collapsed back onto his bed._

_Another night, another assassination attempt. And they weren't getting any cleverer. Groaning, he rolled onto his side, knowing he wouldn't be getting much more sleep that night but opting to try regardless._

A grunt brought him back to reality, and Harry's eyes focused on the young woman down in the arena. Johanna's long blonde hair had been cropped short, as most female recruits were wont to do during training. Not only was it easier, but long hair proved to be a vulnerability, given what the trainees went through. Long hair was easier to grip in a fight or light on fire or just plain got in the way and was an unnecessary distraction. Keeping it short or tightly pinned back was the only way to go.

At the moment, she looked every bit the fiery person Harry had guessed her to be from the start as she rose to her feet, her dark eyes locked on her opponent. Months of training had given her the muscular build she would need to fight as well as the hardened edge of a warrior used to pain, making her fearless in her efforts. Still, Remus was taller than her, and though his build was deceptively thin, his upturned sleeves revealed strong arms much larger than hers and laced with a few pale scars. He was wily as well, proving to be a difficult opponent to duel. The two watched each other warily as they circled one another, Remus' face expressionless, giving away nothing.

Harry watched as Johanna's eye twitched subtly, moments before she darted forward. "Expulso," she snarled, dodging the jet of light that flew past her shoulder. The dirt beneath Remus' feet exploded into fine dust, flying up and blinding the man. Knowing it would affect the man's sense of smell as well, Harry had to admit he was intrigued. At least she was attacking Remus' strengths before confronting him. Johanna was smart; she needed every advantage she could get.

The smaller girl launched herself in the air towards the wall and then propelled herself away from it with a powerful thrust of her legs. Metal flashed in her hand as she sailed towards Remus and Harry spotted the smirk beginning to appear on her face. A smirk that quickly disappeared as she realized her miscalculation.

For while Remus might be blinded in both sight and smell he still had fully functioning hearing, hearing which was quite sensitive thanks to his lycanthropy. It was with that hearing that he heard her shove off the wall. Instantly, he ducked his shoulder so that Johanna's strike sailed over his head harmlessly. With a sharp huff, the air was driven from her body as Remus snapped upright, his shoulder driving into her diaphragm and effectively flipping her over him. Johanna crashed into the dirt with a dull thud, and Harry winced slightly, feeling sorry for the girl. However, she didn't seem fazed as Remus rubbed at his eyes to clear them before walking over and extending a hand to her. After collecting her breath, Johanna took the offered hand and stood with a muffled groan.

"I forgot how quick you were," she muttered, dusting herself off and picking up the steel knife she'd dropped.

"And you're lucky that's a steel blade and not a silver one," Harry spoke up at last. Johanna whirled, relaxing when she saw who it was. "If you'd cut Remus, that wouldn't have been as easy to mend." The young woman raised an eyebrow.

"I know enough about werewolves to avoid attacking one with silver," she sniffed. "Or, at least I wouldn't attack Remus with one anyways. I made sure I didn't arm myself with any silver weapons."

Remus shrugged. "The blow didn't land anyways," he said easily. "No harm done." He shot a teasing grin at the girl, who ignored him.

"So?"

"So what?" Harry asked, glancing at her. Johanna crossed her arms.

"What did you think?"

Harry pursed his lips. "Excellent usage of your surroundings to your advantage. But you're still too easily distracted. If you hadn't assumed you'd already won, you might have remembered how well Remus can hear before you struck the final blow. You need to learn to control your emotions in battle, Johanna. Losing your cool in battle could be fatal to yourself or your teammates."

"If I'm a Ranger, that's less likely to happen," she argued.

"Newly graduated trainees start as Sweepers. You know this." Remus patted the girl on her shoulder, removing it quickly at the baleful look she shot him. "Just do as Harry says. It's the same thing each of the instructors has been saying. You did do well this time," he admitted, "but as Harry said, you need to focus more on keeping your thoughts and emotions under control. No distractions." Remus glanced over to the benches on the other side of the pit, where Tonks sat entertaining a cheerful Teddy. The toddler's hair was currently a garish green that reminded Harry of one Rita Skeeter. Both men smiled slightly at the sight of the young boy, and Remus' smile widened even further when Tonks looked up at him and returned the gaze.

"As members of the Shadow of the Phoenix, we cannot afford distractions," Harry said gently, drawing their attention back to him. "Remember what we're protecting, Johanna, and what we're trying to accomplish. Do not let arrogance or emotions cloud your judgement and jeopardize whatever mission you're on."

Johanna looked properly chastised. "I'll try harder," she promised. "It's hard not to become overconfident sometimes." She looked away at her admission. "Given all the training we go through, I know we've got the advantage over the Eliminators and certainly the Enforcers. Especially since they only use magic." She sighed. "But I'll try to reel it in. I know what's at stake."

Harry nodded at her. "I know you know," he murmured. "You do well. It's okay to be proud of your skills. Just don't let that pride seep into your training." It was true, they had a slight advantage. Learning various muggle styles of fighting meant they could constantly keep the enemy on their toes, but even still, there were always greater dangers when magic was involved. Physical combat just ensured one had a few tricks up their sleeves.

"Our session's over. Go grab something to eat, then meet up with your next instructor in an hour," Remus said as he headed towards his son and wife. Johanna nodded, and with a quick farewell to Harry, she disappeared up the hill towards the camp. Harry followed her at a slower pace, arriving back at camp a couple of minutes later. A silvery otter bounded up to him, and Harry paused, recognizing Hermione's patronus. Letting the animal touch his outstretched hand, Harry heard her voice emanating from the wisp.

"Alistair, more info has come in which we need to discuss. When you get a chance, stop by my workplace. It's rather important, so do hurry."

Its short message done, the creature vanished, leaving Harry to smile in amusement. Leave it to Hermione to politely demand he see her immediately. Shaking his head, he did as bid, his pace increasing as he strode through the tents. Reaching the tent, Harry entered in time to spot Hermione furiously perusing a rather thick tome, her face scrunched up the way it did when she was in the process of figuring something out. Her eyes widened briefly, as she found what she was looking for. Harry cleared his throat then, causing her to jump and slam the book shut in surprise.

"Oh, it's you," she sighed, relaxing. "You startled me."

Harry grinned. "Weren't you expecting me?"

"Not that soon. You're terrible at ever arriving promptly." He ignored the jab in favor of striding over, neck craned to read the title of the book.

"What are you-?"

"Something I was just confirming," she said hastily, sweeping the book under a pile of parchment. "I don't want to say anything yet. I have a theory, so let's leave it at that for now." Her tone demanded the subject be dropped, which Harry did dubiously. It wasn't like Hermione to keep secrets. "Now. About that information. Pythios sent us another tip."

"Pythios?"

"Apparently the moniker our informant has decided to call themselves."

"Moniker?"

"Alias. C'mon, Harry, I'm not speaking a foreign language," she hugged. Well, he could argue that point, but obviously they weren't here to bicker about her expansive vocabulary. Harry crossed his arms.

"What was the tip?"

"We finally have a location on Augustus Rookwood. He's holed up in some secret mansion just outside of Catania." At Harry's somewhat confused expression, Hermione elaborated. "It's in Italy. And I guess he's not exactly on the run. Seems Rookwood feels pretty safe behind his Fidelius charm and numerous secrecy wards, many of which have been put up by the Dark lord himself or at the very least his best wardmakers."

Harry frowned, still puzzled. "That still doesn't explain how we know where this mansion is. You mentioned it was under the Fidelius charm. How on earth was this Pythios able to tell you where it was? Do we even know where near Catania it is?"

Hermione nodded. "Better. We have the exact coordinates. Well, sort of. Pythios not only overheard the coordinates from the Secret Keeper, but was also able to nick this." She held up a pendant, which Harry took to inspect closer. His skin crawled as he studied the cold silver. In a fashion eerily reminiscent of the Mosmorde from many years ago, a serpent was twined around and through a skull, its hood flared as it rested upon the jawbone of the skull. Its tail curled protectively around a tiny obsidian stone.

"What is this?" Harry asked uneasily.

"A special Portkey, created by the Secret Keeper," she said quietly. "It will get us to the mansion, past the wards. Pythios went to great lengths to get it without causing suspicion. We cannot lose that. Once we've made our move, we need to return it, or else the copy Pythios replaced it with will be discovered. We have less than a week to make use of this opportunity."

"It's a trap." Harry dropped the pendant on the table with a loud clatter. Hermione's eyes followed its movement, her lips pursed with annoyance.

"And tell me, oh wise one. How do you figure? Pythios has been nothing but helpful so far."

"Exactly. You gain the enemy's trust, and then slit their throats when they aren't looking. He's been feeding us information-"

"That could get them killed if it was ever discovered who was leaking the information." Hermione's eyes blazed. "Pythios was right about the Horcruxes. They've been right about the raids. They've never given us reason not to trust them. And this might be our only shot at getting Rookwood. We can't afford to blow this because we're too paranoid."

"Being paranoid is why we're still alive to lead this rebellion," Harry argued. "You know that. Why are you so set on trusting this Pythios? How do you know it's not one of the Elite?"

"Because I think I know who Pythios is." Silence fell, and the two stared at each other for a long moment.

Harry broke the silence with a stunned, "Who?"

The woman shook her head. "I don't want to say. Not yet. You're just going to have to trust me."

"Hermione, I need to-"

"No. You don't need to know. I'll tell you when it's important." She looked down at the pendant, tapping the table with her finger. "Anyways, the reason I called you to tell you all this is because you need to start preparing. The sooner we make a plan, the sooner we can get to Rookwood, and the sooner we can return the pendant. Compromising Pythios is the last thing we want to do. They're in a high-ranking position that is perfect for gathering information."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. I'll trust you, Hermione, but only because it's you. I'll call up a meeting and we'll start making plans. We'll head out in three days' time. In the meantime, I wouldn't touch that Portkey very often. If it is a trap of sorts, we can't afford to lose you." He gave her a half-smile. "You're too important to the cause."

"It's password protected," she muttered, but she smiled back all the same. "But I appreciate the concern. Let me know how things go. If I'm right – which I usually am – it won't be easy to convince the others that this is an important opportunity that cannot be wasted."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** Sorry it's been so long! I'm getting ready to graduate soon, so it's been a busy last few months for me - haven't had a whole lot of time to write. Hope you all enjoy this next segment! 

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><p>No, it certainly had not been easy. He'd had to pull the whole 'Boy-Who-Lived' card as a last ditch effort to convince the others that even if it was a trap of sorts, that he could get them and himself out of there without too much trouble. Shacklebolt was surprisingly the first one to agree that it was important to act on the information, even if it was just a dead end. Ron took a bit more convincing, as naturally suspicious as he was. But in the end, even he gave in. Now all they needed was a plan.<p>

Of course, planning had always been Hermione's area of expertise, and she did not fail them now. Seamus joined in, proving that while he might have been a dolt when it came to charms and the like, he did know a thing or two about defensive and offensive tactics, as well as anticipating traps to look out for when inside the mansion. It seemed Pythios had managed to secure a general floor plan of the mansion, as they had visited when the safe house was first set up. Unfortunately, they would not have any information on how many would be at the mansion at one time, but Seamus suggested an early morning attack, when all in the area would be sleepy and not expecting an attack – especially on a secret safe house. "If they still seem to think their assassination attempts will work on us in the early morning, why not use their own tactics?" he pointed out, shrugging. Hermione's eyes narrowed at Harry, and he shot her an apologetic grin; he really had not meant to keep details of the last attempt from her. It had just slipped his mind.

She pushed past her annoyance in favor of continuing to plan the small invasion. "We need to keep this to as small of a party as we can," she said slowly. "While we run the risk of being outnumbered should a fight occur, we have a better chance of avoiding one altogether if the group manages to get in and out without being spotted."

Harry nodded. "I agree. It may be better if we just grab him and get out instead of attempting to assassinate him there." Ron looked over at him with a frown.

"But won't it be difficult to restrain him without making it difficult to get back out or alerting someone on the way?"

"Not as difficult than if we had to fight him, bring him down, and then wear down whatever defenses he's put up around himself." Harry glanced back at Hermione, who agreed.

"If we get him here, it'll be easier for our curse breakers to tear down his defenses and dispatch him without bringing anymore harm to anyone." She traced the outline of the first floor plans with her index finger. "The Portkey will most likely dump you all outside, so you'll be exposed. You all will need to disillusion yourselves before you leave. Harry…I'd prefer you not go, but if you do…" Harry nodded slightly, understanding what she left unspoken. Bringing his cloak was a no-brainer; it had given him the edge needed before, and he hoped it would prove useful again.

"Once you're in, you'll need to make your way to the third floor. Pythios circled this room here," she tapped the indicated room, "which I assume means our target would most likely be residing here in the wee hours before dawn. If he's got even the slightest hint of a brain, he'll have more wards placed around his room and inside of it. Those you'll have to watch out for. At least one member of the team will need to be one of our ward specialists. As soon as the wards are down, there will probably only be a few minutes before someone comes to investigate, if you even have that long. You need to move quickly. Use that stunning spell I taught you all last year – it should be able to break past his defenses temporarily and stall him long enough for you to knock him out the muggle way." She motioned towards the end of the table, where an innocuous bottle rested. "I had Luna brew up an industrial strength version of muggle chloroform. That should knock Rookwood out just fine, and keep him unconscious long enough to transfer him here. Other than the stunner, I wouldn't recommend using any other spells on him – you don't know what his defenses might do in retaliation. The stunner is the only spell you may use unless more force is necessary, am I clear?"

Harry nodded.

"Good. You'll be slower on your way out since you'll have to carry Rookwood as he is. You might get away with dropping him out a window and jumping down after him – if he breaks his neck in the process, great. It'll make it easier to handle him." Hermione grinned. "You will be clear to apparate once you are out of the house. But do not attempt it while in the house, or else they might be able to track you. Even if by some blind luck they don't manage to trace it to headquarters, they'll at least know you got in somehow, which will lead to questions of their own, and _that_ could lead back to our informant." She fixed them with a stern glare. "Those who go had better learn some _discipline_, or else there will be consequences, and they might not be my doing."

There was a collective shudder from the men, although Tonks just smirked back at Hermione. "I'll keep them in line," she promised.

"Like hell you will." Remus looked over pointedly at her. "You're not going. It's too dangerous of a mission."

"I've been in danger before. Why is this any different?"

"Because this time, we're intentionally poking a sleeping beast," Remus argued. "You have Teddy to look after. Let us handle this one this time."

"Oh no, if I'm not going, you're not going." Tonks' hair subtly shifted to a deep red as she crossed her arms stubbornly.

"Fine. I'm not going then. Whatever it takes to get you to stay here." Remus raised an eyebrow, matching Tonks' stance. Ron watched the exchange, before patting the werewolf on his shoulder.

"It's okay, Moony. We'll take care of it ourselves." He slung an arm around Harry's shoulders with an easy grin. "It'll be just like old times, right, mate?"

"Or something like that," Harry responded, returning the grin.

"Fine, Ron will help you carry Rookwood then," Hermione sighed, shaking her head. "You two better not run into any trouble, got it? Don't be stupid."

"Ah, you wound us. Have some faith in us." Ron winked at her, causing Hermione to roll her eyes.

"I had limited faith in you back then, and it hasn't changed," she said in a mildly scathing tone, although the twinkle in her eyes hinted that she was teasing. Harry smiled at the familiar banter, then sobered.

"Who else do you suggest we take with us?"

"Cho Chang, for one. She's just returned from her last trip. Goodness knows you could use a Striker with you guys." Harry nodded, seeing the logic in that. Strikers were like Blitzers in that they were very skilled in a wide array of weaponry and combat both physical and magical, except that they worked alone and usually as assassins. Cho was quite the accomplished Striker, although her skills usually relied on seduction and backstabbing rather than sneaking around. Nonetheless, she was very, very skilled as an assassin, and would be a strong addition to their small posse.

"We could bring Bill along with us," Ron suggested. "He's our most skilled curse breaker at HQ."

"I think having worked in the field long before the war might have helped with that," Hermione mused. "But I agree. He'll be the fourth and final member of your group then. I don't want to risk any more, and it's bad enough that we're sending so many of our best members. Especially you, Harry." She focused her gaze on him. "You will be wearing your glamours, right?"

"Again, have some faith, Hermione. I'm not a complete idiot." Harry waved a hand in dismissal. "Glamours, voice changing spell, the works. Not that I intend to be speaking a lot. I mean, the entire thing does depend on us going unnoticed."

"It's always good to be prepared. Constant vigilance, remember?"

"I remember." Harry looked to Ron, then around at the assembled group. "Well, then, let's call in Bill and Cho and bring them up to speed and agree on a time to act."

Cho and Bill were also skeptical of the plan at first, especially considering that they had only been given as much information as they needed to know – Rookwood was the target, the idea was stealth, and the reason was that Rookwood needed to be eliminated at all costs, though it was easier to accomplish at headquarters. They did agree to the plan, and the four plus Hermione spent a few more hours nailing down a few more details while the rest of the planning committee was dismissed. Eventually, they broke up and disappeared off to their respective tents to get as much sleep as they could before leaving the following morning.

Harry was careful to keep his steps light as he headed towards the meeting place just outside of the camp. He spotted the rest of the group huddled around Hermione, who was clutching the pendant almost nervously. She gave him an attempt at an encouraging smile, before holding the pendant out to him. He took it, wrapping his fingers around it tightly. "We'll be fine," he whispered to her reassuringly. Her only response was to suddenly squeeze the life out of him before releasing him to hug Ron.

"Don't be stupid," she said softly. "Remember. Get in, get out. Nothing more." The four nodded and stepped back. Cho was the last to grab the chain of the pendant, hands having finished tying back her long hair so it wouldn't get in her way. Harry looked around at all of them, and their eyes all peered back at him, each silently asserting their readiness. He couldn't see past their noses due to the fabric pulled over the lower halves of their faces, but if he could, he knew he'd see each of their mouths set in a determined line, much like his was. As he studied them, their forms all flickered, each having disillusioned themselves. Harry did so as well. The extra weight on the chain in his hand reassured him that all were still holding on tightly.

"Here we go," he murmured. "Mortem vicit." The familiar tugging behind his navel plunged him into more darkness as the world around spun away.

Grass materialized beneath them, and years of practice meant all four landed with little more than a soft thud. For a moment, there was no movement, as Bill swept the area for wards and enemies. "Clear," came the whisper, and the four reappeared, dropping the disillusionment spells for the moment. Harry studied their surroundings – the Portkey had dropped them right outside the front gate. "The wards are relatively simple," Bill continued, his eyes narrowing. "They won't take a whole lot to break. Which means there will be heavier warding on the inside. I'd wager the second these are broken, an Anti-Apparition ward will go up."

"Then your job while we run is to focus on dropping any new wards as well," Harry instructed. "Can you handle that while remaining stealthy? We'll need you on the inside, otherwise I'd leave you to that out here."

Bill nodded. "It'll take a few moments longer, but I can do it." Ron gave an approving nod to his brother.

"Then let's break them," he urged. At Harry's nod, Bill's face contorted into a frown of concentration. For a long moment, there was silence.

"Down," Bill snapped, and the four were off.

As he'd predicted, wards went up around them as they entered the grounds. Harry could feel the magic prickle along his skin, but it did not slow his stride as he sprinted to the wall. "Why hasn't any sort of alert gone off?" he hissed, looking at Bill. The older man shook his head.

"There might have been a silent one," he replied in an equally hushed whisper. "We'll need to be extra cautious."

Well that was obvious. Harry grimaced, but waved the other three on. He threw a heavy Notice-Me-Not charm over himself, knowing his companions would notice him simply because they knew who to look for, and vice versa. They repeated his actions, knowing that disillusioning themselves meant risking separation but having no cloaking spell was foolhardy. Disillusioning only came if no other option was available.

There was very little noise as they slipped in through a window. As they dropped through, all were careful to stay alert but no obstacles presented themselves. Were they really all asleep?

He knew it was foolish to ask himself that question, as a well-armed group of what appeared to be privately hired Eliminators rounded the corner of a long hallway. The four froze, each holding their breath, as the leader of the Eliminators paused and held up a hand. "They're here," came the dreaded response. "Spread out and search for them – whoever it is clearly knows how to hide."

Revealing charms would not work on them given their counterspell knowledge, but Harry knew they were quickly running out of time. He swept past a portrait on the wall, shoulder just brushing the edge of it. While no noise was made, the portrait in question noticed the sensation and suddenly cried out in alarm. "Over here!" the thin, bearded man shouted, drawing the attention of the Eliminators. As lights suddenly flew towards him, Harry knew his Notice-Me-Not charm had been broken. He cursed, shielding himself, as the group ran towards him.

"Oh, no you don't," the leader of the Eliminators growled, lunging just as a disillusionment spell swept over Harry. His hand clawed the air for Harry's arm and suddenly, there was a whirlwind of movement. Cho had leapt in, a silver blade flashing as she drove it up through the man's throat. He gave a choking gurgle, the light leaving his eyes as she yanked the knife back out and slashed at her next victim. Another kill, and the knife flew through the air as she threw it at a third Eliminator. By now, Ron and Bill had taken care of the other two, leaving the cooling bodies sprawled over the floor.

"We need to move," Ron snapped. "Alistair?"

"Here," came Harry's voice. He reappeared, clearly furious with himself. "This way." No further discussion occurred as they ran, leaving the pile of bodies where it was. Their presence was already known; it would do them no good to be discreet now. As long as they held onto the Portkey, their method of entry would hopefully remain a mystery.

Once again, magic tingled in the air as they halted in front of a door. "This is it," Harry muttered. Bill relinquished his focus on the Anti-Apparition wards long enough to work through the warding on the door, and after yet another long pause, he nodded and resumed his previous assignment, leaving Harry, Cho, and Ron to creep through the now open door.

The room was dark and empty upon first glance. The three of them tensed, and Harry glanced around. "Search it," he ordered shortly. "It could be a false lead. But it could also be a trap." He waited until Ron and Cho had split off to different corners of the room, before he followed. Harry thought of casting lumos and a revealing spell, but if a member of the Phoenix could fool such a spell, so their enemy could possibly do so as well. Additionally, as Hermione had pointed out, they didn't know what these new Horcruxes had for defences or what they were capable of. Any new magic could have an adverse effect.

Harry moved further into the room, his eyes adjusting quickly to the darkened room. The carpeted floor heavily muted his footsteps as he moved with barely a whispered sound. Perhaps it was the silence that contributed, for a hitched breath alerted him moments before the wardrobe beside him exploded with motion.

He threw himself to the ground just as a sickly green light flashed past his vision. Not hesitating, Harry rolled towards the new shadowy figure, colliding with the man's legs. A snarled curse emitted from the darkness, but Harry continued his movement, his weight causing the man to stumble backwards as Harry propelled himself up. The two of them crashed into the wall where the wardrobe had been, splinters of wood cracking beneath their feet. By now, Cho and Ron had caught on to the struggle and aided Harry as they pinned the newcomer to the wall. "Alistair, the potion," Ron panted, his voice strained by the effort of keeping Rookwood restrained. Whatever wards had been layered over the ex-Death Eater seemed to lend him superhuman strength, for even against three highly trained opponents, he was beginning to break free. A hand shot forth, and Cho let out a strangled groan as fingers clenched around her throat.

Choosing to ignore Hermione's previous warnings, Harry finally relented and snapped, "Lumos maximus!"

Light flared, and Rookwood hesitated in his quest to snap Cho's neck as his eyes squinted against the harsh brightness. Harry took that opportunity to dart forward once more, barking out, "Claudeo!"

The pale stunning spell crashed into Rookwood's chest and as the man pushed back on Cho's airway, his knees buckled without warning which brought his face crashing down into Harry's grasp. Harry raised up the soaked rag and one fluid motion pressed it over Rookwood's nose and mouth. This caused the man to squeeze tighter, strangling Cho even more, but Harry did not relent.

Finally, as a dizzying wave swept over Rookwood, he was forced to release the Striker in lieu of frantically grasping at Harry's arm. Ron shoved his arm into the man's throat as well, distracting him further as Cho backed away unsteadily, gasping for precious air.

After what seemed like eons, Rookwood's movements became sluggish until he finally slumped into the two mens' waiting arms. Now, Harry and Ron looked to Cho, who was rubbing her throat in pain. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and she shook her head when they attempted to ask about her. "Not now," she choked out painfully. "Home first."

With worried glances, the two agreed and quickly bound Rookwood in the Muggle fashion, figuring it would help keep him from moving if he awoke too soon. They carried him out of the room, rejoining Bill just as another team of Enforcers rounded the corner. "Go!" Harry shouted, and Cho cast a reducto that caused the roof to crumble above them, crashing down between them and the Enforcers. The group took off in the opposite direction, ignoring the noise and spells being flung at them.

"The Anti-apparition wards are almost down," Bill hissed as they ducked into an empty room. Harry ran to the window, throwing open the sash.

"They need to be down now," he retorted, as Cho darted onto the ledge. She dropped to the ground two stories below, a cushioning charm keeping her from breaking her legs. She motioned up to Harry, who, helped by Ron, lugged the unconscious Rookwood to the window and shoved him out. If the crack they heard was any indication, Rookwood had indeed broken something important – perhaps his spine, if they were lucky. Even more reason for him not to move when he awoke. The pain seemed to rouse the man, but as Harry and the others followed with their own cushioning charms, he again was knocked unconscious by the rag they shoved under his nose again.

Their escape was slowed by the weight they carried with them, but the group managed to make it to the front gate, just as Bill nodded. "Wards are down!" he exclaimed.

"Good timing!" Ron's head snapped towards where more men were pouring from the mansion. "Let's get out of here!"

With barely a muttered agreement, four pops could be heard as they apparated out with their hard-earned hostage.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Sorry this took so long, but summer has finally arrived - and with it, I'm hoping my muse will as well. I am posting this freshly completed, so apologies if there are grammar or spelling errors. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story so far, so feel free to leave a review or follow the story if you wish to continue reading. Enjoy!**

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><p>Harry, Hermione, and Ron were huddled together in the research tent once again, heads bent together as they discussed the mission. "Fortunately, there were no major injuries, although Cho had to take a trip to the infirmary and have her throat looked at," Harry said. He glanced up at Hermione. "But you were right – that new stunning spell was great. How did you come up with it?"<p>

She shrugged. "Years of studying the theory of magic," she replied. "By temporarily blocking the flow of blood to the brain, it causes a slight dizzy spell and the target is unable to prevent their knees from buckling. It mimics the effects of a strike to the side of one's neck." Ron looked impressed.

"It was a brilliant piece of work," he agreed admiringly. Hermione glanced at him, and her gaze softened slightly. Harry would have missed it if he hadn't looked up at that moment. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, he continued in his report.

"Rookwood sustained some injuries as well, so when he wakes he's sure to feel it. I believe he cracked some ribs and his spine." He grinned slightly before Hermione reached over and smacked him up the side of the head.

"Don't gloat; you all were lucky it went so well." She fixed the two of them with a glower. "You're slipping – the Ron and Harry from two years ago wouldn't have revealed themselves like that."

"It was my fault entirely," Harry pointed out. "I didn't notice the portrait until it gave the alarm. In any case, at least we got out, didn't we?"

"I suppose." Hermione held out a hand. "Though, I suppose it is thanks to Pythios we even got you in there at all. I'll need the pendant back so I can return it before its disappearance is noted."

Harry nodded and dug his hand into the pouch he carried at his side. His fingers brushed against the bottom of the pouch and he frowned. There was a small tear in the pouch, probably from when he'd dodged a cutting curse when things had gone pear-shaped. He once again checked the pouch but came back empty. His gaze whipped up and met Hermione's with a growing sense of dread. "It's gone," he murmured. Hermione and Ron both gaped at him.

"What do you mean, it's gone?" Hermione snapped. "I told you to make sure you didn't-"

"I mean, it must have fallen out when Rookwood ambushed me," Harry shot back. "It's not like I threw it out somewhere. I swear I had it right here!"

"Harry James Potter, so help me-"

Ron glanced back between the two of them. "Hermione, don't," he pleaded, putting up a hand to stop the tirade she was sure to launch into. "I'll send out a notice to the others of our group and have them look to see if perhaps Rookwood pickpocketed Harry. We didn't find anything when we searched him, but perhaps we should look again. But what happened happened. If it's gone, we just have to cut our losses and-"

"Cut our losses?" Hermione whirled on him. "Pythios is in danger now because of that pendant. The whole plan relied on us getting it back to them so they could return it! Now they'll be discovered!" She ran a hand through her hair, beginning to pace. "If it's who I suspect it is, they were in the perfect position for feeding us information – information we won't have now thanks to you." She fired an angry glare at Harry, who raised his hands in defense.

"Hermione, I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I had other things on my mind at the time; I didn't think to make sure it hadn't fallen out."

"We'll have to send out a Blitzer squad," she continued, ignoring him. "Given how valuable Pythios has been to our cause, I'm not going to just leave them to their fate." Hermione glanced at Harry. "I know…since this whole mess happened because you and Ron couldn't keep an eye on the _only_ thing I told you to keep an eye on, you get to go along and help the extraction process."

"Um, Hermione?"

"Um, Ronald?" she retorted.

"We're Rangers, not Blitzers…"

"And I am well-aware of that fact. Be that as it may, the extraction is going to be very difficult. It isn't our usual fanfare – Pythios is in a very good position, as I pointed out earlier. They're completely surrounded by the enemy." Hermione turned to Harry, her gaze daring him to argue. "Most extractions are a race to get to the victims before the Eliminators get there, only this time, the Eliminators will already be there and they won't be your only concern. The team will need your experience and skill if they are to succeed."

Harry crossed his arms. "Blame me all you want, Hermione, but this sounds like a good way to get ourselves killed. Weren't you the one who hated me going out into the field?"

"At the moment, I think I value our spy's life more than yours," she retorted scathingly. "At least he doesn't royally botch things up. I gave you one job, Harry Potter…"

"Fine, I'll go." Harry shrugged. "Happy?" He crossed his arms, and the two of them stared each other down. Finally, Hermione's shoulders slumped.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "It's just…we finally had an inside person, and now the whole thing is ruined." She motioned towards the pouch. "Did you lose anything else of value?" Harry shook his head, hesitated, and then opened his arms to Hermione. She sighed and accepted the hug, even motioning for Ron to join in. As the redhead wrapped his arms around her as well, Harry smiled slightly.

"I really am sorry, 'Mione."

"I know you are," Hermione replied quietly. Harry squeezed his two best friends tighter before releasing them.

"Seriously, though, get some rest. You clearly need it," Harry said firmly, nodding his head at the desk. "Put all of that away and take the rest of the day off. I don't want to tell you to again – I know you didn't rest like I asked you to last time." Hermione began to protest, but he cut her off. "Please, take care of yourself for once. I'll oversee the formation of a Blizter squad. You just give us the Portkey we'll need."

Hermione sighed and reached for a nearby parchment. "Take a look at that list," she suggested. "Those are all the existing Blitzers – I'd recommend keeping teams as teams. They work best that way. If you have to pull some of the elite into your group, then go ahead and do so. The top of the list are the teams that are on standby already, so again, I'd recommend taking one of those teams – you need to get to Pythios as soon as possible. With any luck, the medallion won't be noticed until you've already gotten out. I'll have the Portkey ready for you as soon as you have a group assembled."

Harry nodded. "Get that Portkey, and then go on."

He turned back to the list and Ron peered over his shoulder. "No matter how many years it's been, I'm still bloody terrified of her," Ron admitted. Harry raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. "She knows it too, I reckon." He leaned forward, tapping one of the teams. "Fred and George are on standby. I reckon their team will be a good one for us to go with. They have a wide range of skills."

"Or do you just want to have them at your back?" Harry asked with a smirk. Ron shot a glare at him but didn't attempt to respond. "Fine, they are up next anyways. Why break from the usual?"

"Shall I go grab them then?"

Harry picked up the parchment, perusing them. "I'll go with you. We can brief the team first and make sure they know what we're getting into…or rather, what we aren't sure we're getting into. Then we'll go get the Portkey." He rubbed his face tiredly. "Two missions in one day. Life is getting exciting," he said sarcastically. Ron grimaced in agreement.

"It's good practice though," he pointed out. "Hermione was right – we _are_ getting rusty."

"Who, us? We've been dealing with trouble since we were kids. I'd say this is normal," Harry laughed. The two exited the area, heading towards the tent where the Blitzer teams stayed when on standby.

In moments, they were ducking into the darkened tent, squinting slightly to let their eyes adjust. A quick survey of the room revealed that Parvati Patil was currently curled on her side, supposedly sleeping. Katie was in a hammock strung between tent poles with her nose shoved in a book while Fred and George were in an intense game of Exploding Snap. "Brother!" the twins chorused. "And our fearless leader." George rose, motioning towards the kettle that resting on the edge of the table. Steam rose from the spout, several enchantments simultaneously keeping it warm and yet preventing it from burning the wood beneath.

"Fancy a cup? Or perhaps something a little stronger? We're on alert so none for us."

"Thanks, but no thanks," Harry responded. "We're actually here with your next mission. Where's Blaise?"

"Here." The soft-spoken voice emanated from the darkest corner of the tent and Blaise Zabini stepped forward, running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. He nodded at Harry and Ron in greeting.

His sudden appearance did not startle either Harry or Ron. The ex-Slytherin was prone to keeping silent and watchful from wherever he could best stay out of sight and out of mind. Even despite all he'd sacrificed for the Shadow of the Phoenix – including the sight in his left eye as the gnarled scar down his face indicated – people still mistrusted him. For all their belief about equality amongst wizarding kind, many of the people in the camp had not forgotten their vendetta against Slytherin and its many Dark wizards. It was rubbish, really. They could not afford such luxuries as petty House rivalries anymore; it had become a matter of survival and death. Or worse.

"Who's our target for extraction?" Katie swung herself out of the hammock, tossing her book to the side as she shook Parvati awake. The younger Blitzer awoke without a sound, her dark eyes blinking as she took in Harry and Ron's presence.

"Not sure. One of our spies got their cover blown but we aren't sure who they are, so we only have a location to go off." Harry waited as Fred and George exclaimed in confusion. The girls looked skeptical while Blaise studied him curiously.

"And we trusted this person?" he asked slowly. "We've never had an unknown before. What possessed command to be content with an unknown spy?" Ron glanced over at Harry.

"They provided valuable information to us." Harry crossed his arms, allowing Ron to fill them in. "Athena said she knew their identity but that it was vital they remain unnamed for now. All we know them by is the codename Pythios." Blaise shifted, his expression unreadable. "We'd hoped to get more useful information from them, but our last mission royally botched that up. We…made a mistake and if we don't act quickly, Pythios' cover will be blown and who knows what will happen to them." Ron shrugged. "It happens, but we're choosing not to dwell on things. We just need to get them out of there."

"What's that we hear?" Fred's grin was teasing and George wore an equally amused expression on his face.

"Our little brother made a mistake?"

"Ickle Wonniekins is not so perfect after all?"

"Actually, it was my fault this time," Harry admitted. All eyes turned to him and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I was busy dodging curses and didn't notice I'd let the evidence fall." He straightened, dropping his arm. "Enough of this though. We'll run you through the plan – feel free to suggest a plan of your own – and then we'll head back to the briefing tent for the Portkey we'll need."

This was agreeable to the team, and they gathered around the table as Harry outlined his plan.

A sense of déjà vu hit him as they gathered in the briefing tent a short while later. The team had gathered around the Portkey, each of them grasping onto the edge of the leather bound book. "Remember," Hermione admonished. "Don't try anything stupid. You wouldn't be needing to do this if it weren't for an earlier bout of that." She raised an eyebrow at the disguised Harry, who merely grinned apologetically at her. "Alright, off you go."

"Wait, how do we know who our spy is?" Ron protested. Hermione glanced at Blaise. His clear eye stared back at her, unblinking.

"That will be very clear," she said quietly. "Pythios knows you are coming. He'll be waiting."

"He?" There was no response from Hermione as she spoke the password. Harry grimaced at the familiar tug behind his navel and away they spun.

"About time you got here," drawled a painfully familiar voice as the team gathered themselves. The cold dungeon walls around echoed as a figure stepped closer to the bars between them. Harry's eyes widened. "I was worried the Eliminators would arrive before you guys did."

"You!" barked Ron, face distorted in disgusted surprise.

"Me," agreed Draco Malfoy.


	8. Chapter 8

**In response to the guest who left a review on the last chapter: I did warn you at the beginning of the story that there would be some out of character moments. Yes, the canon Hermione would not have risked Ron and Harry to go save Draco Malfoy. However, this is not canon Hermione – this is **_**fanfiction**_** Hermione. Some liberties must be taken in order to advance the plot of a fan-made, **_**fictional **_**story. There are a number of fanfictions out there that have ridiculous plotlines like de-aging potions, marriage laws, animagus transformations gone wrong (not even counting the ones that have non-canon relationships – Dramione, Drarry, etc.).**

**I'm sorry that Hermione's imperfect decision in a moment of frustration was too out of character for you. I'm sorry that the rest of the story, which you did like, was not enough to keep you reading. However, I'm ultimately writing this story because I like to imagine how things **_**could**_** have been if the Harry Potter story didn't end with a victory for the light. As much as I love my readers and I value your guys' opinions, being upset because I chose to write characters differently from the original author is silly. You're reading fanfictions wrong, darling. That's the point of fanfictions. Nobody is making you read them, and telling a fanfiction writer that they aren't writing "believably" is not helpful. If you can't "stomach the thought of reading" it anymore, then good day to you; this clearly is not the story for you, which I don't mind at all.**

**To the rest of you lovely readers, thank you. Even the silent readers make it worth continuing the story. I enjoy writing, and I'm glad I have this chance to share my imagined scenario of a post-war Harry Potter. Thank you.**

**As an apology for the long delay, have a longer chapter! I was so focused on getting this done for you all, that I hope there aren't too many grammar mistakes (or inconsistencies!). I do hope you enjoy!**

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><p>"Malfoy?" hissed Ron. "You're telling me we're risking our necks to save bloody <em>Malfoy<em>?"

"Keep it down, would you," Malfoy said coolly. The blonde crossed his arms, a sneer twisting his face. "Had I known this was going to be the rescue party, I would have just ended it myself." Ron lunged forward as if to try to grab Malfoy through the bars.

Harry finally gathered his wits enough to stop the redhead in his tracks. "Cool it, Ron." His instincts kicked back in and he studied their surroundings, ignoring the gaping look he got from Ron. The group was in a darkened dungeons of some sort – whether Malfoy Manor or a different location, he couldn't tell. All of them had their wands out, the light emanating from the tips casting an eerie gleam over the cold stone walls and floor. They had been Portkeyed to the middle of the corridor and were currently facing Malfoy, who was glaring out at them from behind the bars in a cell to his own. Though Malfoy was further back in the shadowed recess of the cell, Harry could still make out some of his features. Dried blood was caked down the side of his face and had leaked out of his ears and nose. Though he held himself with all of the proud dignity expected of a Malfoy, Harry could see that Malfoy could not keep from the occasional tremble of his shoulders. Signs pointed to several castings of the Cruciatus for varying lengths of time. Even Malfoy's voice was hoarse, as if he'd been screaming in agony for quite a while.

"Looks like they found you out after all. How is it you're alive?" Harry asked after a moment of hesitation. Ron's head whipped around as if in disbelief that Harry was not ordering them to leave without the captive. Malfoy cocked his head, confusion briefly flickering across his face. For a moment, there was recognition in his eyes as well but before he could speak, Harry shook his head. He knew Malfoy recognized that he was Alistair, but he knew no guess would be able to come close to the truth of who he was. Not that he intended to let the blonde call him by his alias either, in case there were other ears listening in. "On second though, don't," he said, stopping the blonde from speaking. "There will be time for that later. Let's just get out of here. I'm assuming you are our target?"

"I am Pythios, yes," Malfoy agreed. His grey eyes narrowed at Harry. "I suppose you're right about not having time, but I have questions."

"I'd wager we have more," Ron muttered, but he begrudgingly stood to the side to let Fred and George approach the cave.

"Stand back," George said cheerfully. He and Fred raised their wands as Malfoy stepped away from the door of the cell. "Confringo alsius!"

The blasting curse hit the bars and frost suddenly bloomed across the lock. Fred swiped his own wand at the lock with a well-aimed reducto and the ice shattered along with the lock. The bars swung open and Malfoy limped forward. As he moved into the light of their wands, Harry caught sight of the fresher, glistening blood covering his right side. Blaise stepped forward with an unreadable expression on his face and Malfoy almost reeled back in shock. "You're alive," he breathed. Blaise nodded quietly and for a moment, Harry almost felt sympathy for Malfoy. Those same feelings of relief had coursed through him after a particularly bad mission had separated Hermione from the group. That had been the last mission she had gone on before they deemed it too dangerous, deemed her too valuable for them to lose. Ron and Harry would never admit that it was pure selfishness that led them to the decision.

"We need to move," he said shortly, interrupting whatever reunion Malfoy and Blaise were having. The darker man glanced at him before putting his arm under Malfoy's and helping to support him. It was clear that the blonde was injured; they wouldn't be moving very fast. "Everyone, gather round. I've got the Por-"

There was a creaking sound and Malfoy's head whipped up. "Move towards the back," he hissed, all but dragging Blaise down with him as he staggered away from the sliver of light that began to creep down the corridor. Parvati and Katie, who had previously been silently watching the exchange, began frantically casting spells around the group and on the cell they had broken into. They threw up several concealing charms and distraction spells as the group painstakingly retreated deeper into the dungeons. Ron cast a silencing spell around them as Fred cast a curtained spell at a cell they passed. Harry felt the tell-tale tingle of magic surround the group.

"Good thinking," he whispered. "Whoever it is will be finding the empty cell right about-" There was a startled shout, then a louder yell of angry frustration. "Now."

"There's a secret passage at the end of this hallway," Malfoy said, his voice tight with concealed agony. "I can lock whoever it is out – just get to it."

They were moving too slow. Footsteps began to pound behind them as whoever it was sounded the alarm. Harry gritted his teeth then moved to the other side of Malfoy, hauling him further to his feet. He ignored the hiss of pain from the injured man and instead helped Blaise to pull him along. The footsteps grew louder and there was a flash of light as someone triggered the trap Fred had set. With an increased frenzy, more pursuers joined the chase.

Harry risked a glance over his shoulder, his eyes widening as he shouted a warning. George let out a surprised grunt as a jet of red light tore his shoulder open, splattering the nearest of them with blood. Fred also cried out in alarm as his twin staggered, but he fired his own spell back, blasting the attacker away from his injured brother. Ron also turned and let loose a spell that caused the stones beneath to take on a bog-like consistency. The pursuing Eliminators began to stumble as their legs were trapped in the softened floor, slowing them enough for the escape group to make the end of the hall.

Malfoy lunged forward, his fingers tracing a rune in the air as he shouted something in a foreign language. The stones in the wall glowed, and seemed to melt away as he waved the group in. "Hurry," he demanded, accepting Blaise and Harry's support as they once again took up positions beside him. It was testimony to the anguish he'd suffered that he did not protest the help as the rescue team piled into the darkened tunnel. Again chanting the strange password, Malfoy reversed the rune and the wall slammed shut behind them, throwing them into complete darkness.

There was a terrible shout and an even more terrifying pounding as their pursuers reached the wall but true to his word, Malfoy had locked them out. They were safe for now. "Keep moving," he rasped, pulling his supporters along with him. "If my father shows up, they'll break through in seconds."

"Katie, the wards. How are they?" Harry asked. Nearby, Ron struck up a light at the end of his wand, the light harsh against the shadows surrounding them. George was now heavily leaning against his twin, and Katie and Parvati had their heads together whispering to themselves. Blaise said nothing as Harry transferred Malfoy's weight to him, straightening as he pulled out the Portkey. Their breathing was labored and echoed in the tunnel as they hurried along.

There was silence, and then Katie spoke up. "Anti-Apparition, as expected," she replied. "But we won't worry about those. Parvati?" The other girl mumbled an affirmative before they quieted once more. Katie spoke up again. "Alright. Portkey wards are going down in three, two, one!"

With that confirmation, Harry reached out with the Portkey. The group stopped and surrounded him, all taking hold of the book. At that moment, light glowed from behind them and Harry knew the Eliminators had broken in. He whispered the password and they were all whisked away to safety.

Upon arrival, Malfoy finally collapsed and Blaise struggled to keep his dead weight from dragging him down with him. "Get him to the infirmary," Harry ordered. "Same with George. Stay with them, get checked yourselves, and make sure your team begins recovering." The girls rolled their eyes at the unnecessary instructions but didn't protest as they followed Blaise out of the tent they'd arrived in. Parvati moved to help Blaise transport Malfoy while Katie helped Fred with George. Harry's shoulders relaxed and he turned to Ron.

The redhead's concern for his brother warred with the numerous questions in his mind, causing numerous emotions to flicker across his face before common sense won out. His brother would be taken care of but his questions… Ron whirled towards Harry, who just shook his head. "Let's go find Hermione," he murmured, beckoning to his friend. "She's got some answering to do."

"I can't believe you sent us to rescue that slimy ferret."

Harry and Hermione, well-versed in Ron's rages, stayed quiet as the redhead paced in Hermione's tent. With a pleading glance at Harry, Hermione reached out towards Ron.

"Look, I wasn't completely thinking it through," she admitted. Ron shrugged off her hand and continued pacing.

"Oh I'll say. Sending us – your _best friends_ – into what could have been a very volatile situation was not completely thought through! And all for some stupid spy who turned out to be the git who tormented our childhood years!"

"He's not a stupid spy!" Hermione defended herself. "He was in one of the best possible positions for a spy to be – as the son of the Dark lord's right-hand man!"

"Right, I forgot. Not some stupid spy, but a guy who could singlehandedly destroy everything we've worked for with a few Dark curses and a slip of the tongue!"

Harry stepped in. "Look, Ron, what's done is done. Hermione's right – Malfoy was in an optimal position and we blew that. Let's let the past stay in the past, alright? We don't even know if he's the same person anymore."

"_We_ aren't the same people anymore," Hermione pointed out. Ron turned to face them, his shoulders heaving.

"But it's _Malfoy_," he argued.

"As if that wasn't already clear," Harry said, crossing his arms. "I don't like the guy any more than you, Ron, but we were the ones who put him into the situation in the first place. It was only right we go to get him out." Hermione looked grateful for the support.

"You're right; I shouldn't have sent you two in," she said quietly. "You two are vital to this organization but I also knew you two had the skill to get him out." She sat down on the edge of the bed tucked into a corner of her tent. "I had a million things on my mind, not the least of which was the fact that an innocent person would be facing a torture worse than death if we didn't get him out. I knew we had to act quickly, and I was already peeved with the both of you for being careless with the medallion."

"Hermione, it's alright." Harry glanced at the brunette, whose eyes were beginning to glimmer with tears. "Everyone got back alive and relatively unharmed. The only ones injured were George and Malfoy – and Malfoy was already injured to begin with."

"George was hurt?"

Ron spoke up this time. "Some sort of severing curse," he muttered, his temper beginning to fade. "Got him in the shoulder. The medic team should be able to patch him up quickly though, provided it wasn't too Dark of a curse."

"Malfoy's the one who will need significantly more treatment," Harry mused, stretching slightly. "Once he's awake, I think I'll head over and start questioning him. Probably will have to answer a few of his questions as well."

Hermione nodded. "I'll definitely have a few for him myself," she agreed. "Mainly about what he knows of these new Horcuxes."

"If he knows anything useful, that is." Ron scowled. Harry patted his shoulder as he turned to leave.

"And that sort of attitude is exactly why I'm forbidding you to go visit him until I say you may." Ron's eyes widened, though Harry met his gaze evenly. "I'm serious, Ron. He may actually have some usefulness to our cause, and I won't have you two at each others' throats. Merlin knows I get enough of that with you and 'Mione." Both had the decency to look abashed, though Ron recovered quickly.

"Well why do _you_ get to go talk with him? I want to know what he has to say too!"

"Because he has no idea who I am." Harry sighed. "I'm only going to reveal myself as Alistair. Combined with the glamours I wear – over my voice and everything – he won't ever have any idea otherwise. Besides, Harry Potter is supposed to be dead. I'm not entirely sure I want to face the reactions of anyone if they found out my real identity." He shuddered.

"Many would celebrate," Hermione sighed. "But even more would see it as a betrayal. Not to mention it would stir the hornet's nest before we were ready, so to speak. The Dark lord would go ballistic."

"That he would."

Their conversation was interrupted at that moment as a voice called from outside the tent. "Sir?"

Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione and approached the tent's entrance. Poking his head out, he spotted Parvati standing out front. "Our target has awoken, sir. He's asking for you." She glanced at Ron, who had exited the tent as well. Harry turned back towards Ron. "Why don't you stay here and keep Athena company," he said, both knowing it was not a request. Ron grunted, choosing to remain outside and watching Harry walk away with Parvati, clearly unhappy with being left behind.

Hermione stayed inside herself, her own identity being risked each time she left the tent. While Ron could not simply hide away, Hermione – as a muggleborn – had believably convinced the Wizarding World that she had returned to the muggle world for good. While those on the strike forces knew better, there could spies everywhere within the camp. Thus, without her glamours, it was best she remain inside. Ron sighed, and turned back towards the tent to further complain to Hermione about the unfairness of it all. Secretly, though, his curiosity burned to hear what Malfoy had to say.

The medical tent was quiet as Harry walked in beside Parvati. Each bedside was separated by transfigured curtains and had a privacy charm cast around it. Though there were fewer than they'd like to have, Harry was glad to see that there had been some new recruits onto the mediwizard and mediwitch staff. "How are supplies holding out?" he asked, stopping one of the senior members. The wizard smiled briefly.

"Thanks to our potions masters, we should be good for another few months, with three week's rations backed up in case of a shortage. The last shipment helped bolster our supplies."

Harry smiled back. "That's great to hear." He allowed the man to continue towards wherever he was headed, instead following Parvati further back into the magically expanded tent.

The furthest bedside was even more sequestered than the rest, and Harry knew this was where they usually put their more secretive patients. He could feel the slight tingle of magic trail over his skin as he walked through the privacy shield, coming face to face with an alert Malfoy.

"You must be Alistair," came the obvious remark. Harry raised his eyebrows at that.

"What gave you that impression?"

Malfoy sniffed. "The way you carry yourself kind of gives it away." At Harry's slightly affronted look, he rephrased his words. "Everyone around you clearly looks to you for instruction and you walk like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders. Yet you try to hide it from everyone around you." The blonde smirked. "Except you can't hide it from me. I've learned to read people well in order to survive."

Harry's expression became carefully neutral. "Is that so?"

"Do you see me as a threat?"

The two locked eyes for a long moment, each sizing the other up. "What are you trying to accomplish by goading me?" Harry asked harshly. Parvati glanced at him, her own expression carefully guarded.

"I'm trying to see just how secure my position is here." The honest response caught him by surprise. Harry blinked at Malfoy, who stared back in an unconcerned manner. "Keep in mind, oh great leader, I was just pulled from a scenario where my position had been compromised and I had been turned into my father's personal test dummy. Only yesterday I was still securely in his confidence. So forgive me if I'm not confident in my ability to survive the night."

"If I wanted you dead, I would have left you in that cell," came the cold retort. Harry conjured a chair and sat, leaning back and throwing an arm over the back of the chair. He waved Parvati away and she left him after only a moment of hesitation. "I can promise that you will be safe here. You are under my protection; the people guarding you will do so well."

"Is that because you care or because Athena put you up to it?" Again, Harry blinked at him. Malfoy shrugged. "I know that the only reason you all came after me was because Athena insisted. You could have just left me to rot and with not a care in the world. I was the wild care, the rogue spy, the one who could turn against you without a moment's notice. So I know you only came to rescue me because she wanted it."

"That may be true," Harry said slowly. "But we went to the trouble of bringing you back. One of our team even bled to bring you back. So I am very much invested in the thought of keeping you alive. There is no benefit to having someone with a long-held grudge assassinate you so soon after we brought you here."

"Is that why you didn't bring anyone else with you?"

"Perhaps." Harry allowed his own smug grin to creep onto his face. "Although I'll have you know that there was someone very much interested in getting his hands around your throat."

"Must have been Weasley." Malfoy grimaced. "I expected him to still hold a grudge. I'm surprised he didn't jump me when he had the chance earlier. Thanks for that, by the way."

Harry frowned. "For what?"

"Keeping things cool down in those dungeons. Weasley would have gotten us killed if you'd allowed him to follow after that silly school rivalry we used to have." He sighed. "It's been so long since Hogwarts, but I'm not surprised. He always could hold a pretty long grudge. I'm just surprised it hasn't cooled off, especially after…" His voice trailed off and Malfoy's jaw tightened.

"After what?"

"After the final battle. You know about that, don't you?" The blonde scowled. "That's when everything went to shit. Oh, don't get me wrong, I thought it was all fine and merry at the time. My side had won and I was finally on top where I belonged. But there was something about seeing Potter's body that was…" He shuddered. "I never expected to see so much death." Malfoy's gaze grew distant. "Truth be told, I was horrified to see that Potter had been killed. I wanted the dark to win, but I didn't know what the cost would be. I hated him, but I would never have wished death upon him or any of my schoolmates. Not even the muggleborns, though I still believed the Dark lord was to be followed and had used the Killing curse several times that day."

Harry stayed quiet throughout Malfoy's rambling, only breaking his silence to ask, "What changed your mind?"

Malfoy's hard grey eyes met his. "I celebrated the victory, as all on my side did. And for the first year or so, it was everything I had hoped it'd be. I had the glory and the favor of the Dark lord. I lorded over the pitiful muggleborns and halfbloods and I could send human servants scurrying with a simple lift of my finger.

"And then my father started to change. He was the Dark lord's right hand man, inferior only to my aunt Bellatrix. My father had always been cold, but never cruel, until one day, he came home looking like complete and utter shit. Everything about him was disheveled and bloodied. His face was barely recognizable and his expression was heavy, heavier than anything I'd seen during the war – even after he had been subjected to the Cruciatus. I knew then that there had been a torture session unlike any before, though I couldn't for the life of me figure out why. He refused to speak of what had happened, leaving my mother and I baffled and a little scared.

"He was normal for a while, but his behavior changed very quickly." Malfoy's breathing became harsher and his fists unconsciously clenched the sheets in his hands. His knuckles whitened. "He struck my mother one night after an argument – I can't even remember what it was about – and that's when we began to realize that something was wrong. He had never struck us before. It became more and more frequent, though he hit me more often than he hit my mother. I made sure of that.

"I would gladly return to the physical beatings. He got tired of using his fists or cane and turned to torture spells and mental torment. It was all to make me stronger, he claimed." Malfoy's eyes squeezed shut and Harry frowned at the intensity of the emotion that seemed to overcome the blonde. "The visions he would use on me were…" His eyes snapped open and he fixed his steely gaze on Harry. "If you want some suggestions, Alistair, psychological torment can be greatly increased with just one master Legilimens on your interrogation team," he snarled. "They will have no defense against what they won't expect. Not to mention the pain is unbearable."

"When your father started changing, how long did it take you to figure out why?" Harry prompted. It was clear that Malfoy had suffered greatly; how many more in Voldemort's service suffered like he? Dimly, Harry wondered if they had anyone in the camp who was capable of helping Malfoy heal from the trauma.

"I don't remember how long. All I remember is one day during a long torture session, he was interrupted with a house elf bearing a letter from the Dark lord. He left the letter behind on his desk, thinking me unconscious. When he had left, I summoned the parchment to myself and read it. Something about needing to make sure the soul shard was adjusting well."

That made sense. Two souls were likely to be incompatible without proper observation. Harry thought back to his first year at Hogwarts. Professor Quirrell hadn't seemed to show any negative side effects outside of his nasty personality when revealed, but Harry had no knowledge of what the man had been like before. He had no knowledge of how the soul had reacted to Quirrell's.

"I knew then that this was something far worse than I had imagined. It took me only a few hours to properly research what was going on and that was the moment I realized I wanted out. I had been so blinded by my own selfish pride that I had missed the rapid decline of everything I stood for. I sent that patronus out in a desperate attempt to seek help, to be honest." Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "Funny thing, a patronus. You have to personally select someone to send it to in order to send a message. I sent one to the only person I thought would give me a chance because of their sheer curiosity and thirst for knowledge."

Harry shifted, growing uncomfortable with the way Malfoy's eyes looked at him knowingly. "You know, I never believed the stories," Malfoy said quietly. "She was too brilliant of a witch to simply leave the Wizarding World. Her best friend had been murdered and she was just as likely to desire vengeance as Weasley was. I know Hermione Granger didn't disappear. She's Athena, isn't she?"

Harry's wand was pointed at Malfoy's face in seconds, obliviate just moments from leaving his lips. Malfoy held up a pacifying hand. "Hear me out, please," he pleaded. His tone gave Harry pause.

"You have one minute," he snarled. Malfoy nodded.

"I swear on my magic I mean no harm. From the moment my patronus was received, I knew. I also knew that I had to form an alias, or else you would never trust me as a source. I knew she would be smart enough to figure out who I was, but I didn't know if she would tell you or not. Judging by the responses earlier, I'd say she didn't." He smiled slightly. "I knew her curiosity would get the better of her. Needless to say, I'm grateful to her and to the rest of your team. I wouldn't be alive if not for you." He nodded gratefully at Harry, who had yet to lower his wand.

"Why not betray us? It would certainly get you back into favor with your father," Harry said warily. Malfoy's face soured.

"No, it wouldn't," he said shortly. "The soul shard in my father has warped him beyond recognition. My father's intelligence is there, yes, but his very identity has changed. Giving up that information would only buy me a few more weeks of peace before it would fade. I chose to instead try to find a lasting solution." Harry was surprised to see Malfoy begin to worry at his lip, something he'd never thought he'd see a Malfoy do. "I want my father dead," he whispered. "More than anything, I'd love to have him back, but I know that reality is gone. I can't bear to see him the way he is anymore. That's why I continued feeding that information to you. The Shadow of the Phoenix is the only organization that has any hope of overthrowing the Dark lord and ending this madness. I chose to seek after hope and a better future this time. I don't think you will be letting me down."

"We aim not to," Harry replied, frowning. "Although, as Athena so kindly pointed out to me earlier, we've now lost you as a valuable spy. That sets us back a bit, unless you have information you can pass on to us?"

"I have information as well as an extensive knowledge of how their side works." Malfoy slouched back into the pillows propping him up, his face beginning to look worn. Harry had to remind himself that the blonde had been tortured just shortly before.

"There will be time for that later," he said, interrupting Malfoy. "For now, rest, and recover your strength. I'll see to it that no one disturbs you." Harry stood, pausing to glance back at him. "I'm glad you came to see the truth," he said quietly. "It took courage to walk away from the life you'd once dreamed of. Perhaps you will find an even better future here."

He could feel Malfoy's gaze on his back as he walked away.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: So sorry about the long breaks in between updates - I'm getting ready to graduate, so I'm considerably busier than usual. When I do have free time, my brain is so fried I can't even think of what to write. So, as my apology, have a longer chapter than usual.**

_**WARNINGS:**_ _This story is rated M for a reason. __There is a torture scene in the second half of this chapter. If you are uncomfortable with torture methods or mentions of leeches, I apologize. If it truly bothers you, you may skip the section after the dividing line, but you will miss vital information._

**That being said, enjoy! I hope to get back to writing soon!  
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><p>Malfoy bounced back quickly once in the care of the resistance's medical team. Clearly, torture was not a new concept to him, as he recovered in record time. In fact, a day had hardly passed before Harry had been forced to go to the medical tent in an attempt to convince Malfoy to stay put. Stubborn as they both were, it was several visits before he finally gave the order for the mediwitch to knock the blonde out with a powerful sleeping draught. Even if Malfoy insisted he would be fine, Harry didn't need to risk what could potentially be a valuable asset to their team. Malfoy was intelligent, well-trained, and powerful; Harry would have to be a fool not to admit that. Even Ron had to agree, though with a good amount of grumbling to go with his agreement.<p>

It was a week before Harry finally put the option out there.

Malfoy blinked at him for a moment, as if slowly registering what Harry had to say. "Training?" he asked. "You want to train me."

"Not that you really need help with the magical side of things," Harry responded. "But if you're going to stay here with us, you're going to have to make yourself useful, and the rest of my team agrees that you would be most helpful to us in the field. That means you will have to go through the same training as any of our recruits would. You might get through the program faster, but I can't be making exceptions for anyone, especially someone who used to oppose us."

"Thanks for the explanation," Malfoy sneered. His brow furrowed. "And what if I don't want to fight in the field? Remember, Alistair, I know people on the other side. Some of them were even my friends. I might have had a change of heart, but that doesn't mean I want to go leaping to my death, hoping to take a couple of them out with me."

"Which is why we would train you." Harry's eyes bore into him though, to his credit, Malfoy never flinched. "You have two options: you go through training, after which we determine which team is best for you to join, or we execute you."

"Harsh, don't you think?"

"We can't afford to do otherwise." Malfoy's eyes narrowed, but it seemed he understood. Harry explained anyways. "Anyone who is not on active duty is a liability. Given your past – and despite your valuable help – we would have no choice but to imprison you or execute you. We do not have the resources to keep you imprisoned indefinitely. So the only logical conclusion would be to execute you, however against the idea we might be. No loose ends, you understand."

"Oh, I understand." A small smirk appeared on Malfoy's face. "I think I might grow to like it here after all. I like your guys' way of thinking. It's smart, almost Slytherin of you."

"It's what's kept us alive. Old houses have nothing to do with it."

"I can appreciate that. So, when do I start?"

"You'll be joining us then?"

"Don't have any other choice now, do I?" Harry snorted.

"Smart decision." He threw a bundle of clothing at Malfoy, who caught it easily. "Now get changed. The rags you were wearing when we brought you here have already been burned. We didn't want to take the risk of a tracking charm being woven into the fabric." Malfoy made a face at the news, but didn't protest. Instead, he unfolded the bundle, turning over the dark material in his hands.

"Not my usual style," he sniffed. "But it will do."

"Get used to it." Harry shrugged. "This is war. We don't have time for luxuries. You have five minutes to meet me outside this tent."

"You aren't just bringing me down here to kill me, are you?" Harry leveled an unimpressed look at Malfoy, who raised his hands defensively. "Just checking. This is an unusual situation; anything could happen."

Harry had led Malfoy past the rows of tents towards the pit at the edge of the camp. As they passed a specific cluster of rocks, Harry had had him slice his palm open and rest it against the largest boulder. The jagged face of the stone had wavered before Harry waved him through and the two stepped past the wards.

It was a cleverly designed illusion, and though the rock cluster was fairly obvious, it was nigh impenetrable with the amount of wards surrounding it. Additionally, it had an even handier charm attached that caused the memory of the area to quickly fade unless one was keyed into the wards. Anyone who happened to stumble upon the hideout would only forget it existed the second they left.

Entering the rock revealed a tunnel carved out by magic. Werelights dimly lit the tunnel's walls as Harry led Malfoy deeper into the ground. Finally, the slope seemed to level out, and dirt turned to stone. "This is incredible," Malfoy breathed as they passed sealed door after sealed door. "I had no idea the Shadow of the Phoenix had all of this…hell, I didn't even know this was possible!"

"It's amazing what a team can accomplish when their lives depend on it," Harry answered. He brushed a hand against a passing pillar. "It took us about three years to fully complete this. Impressive though it may seem, creating a bunker out of solid ground is not easy. We had all of our strongest wizards and witches working feverishly to get this finished. Now we use it to train our recruits. The pit up top is just for show and sometimes to give the trainees another arena to fight in." He motioned towards a door. "You won't be privy to the specific location just yet, but one of these rooms has a special trapdoor that leads to a lower level, which is where we hide our dungeons. We have a holding tent above ground for temporary usage, but our more permanent guests stay here in the cozy accommodations we have for them." Malfoy shivered as he became aware of the chilled air around them.

"Sounds like a real walk in the park," he muttered. "Why are you telling me all of this when I haven't given you a reason to trust me yet?"

"Because this is where your training will begin." The two stopped in front of the final door. "Think of it this way. If you fail, we won't have to worry about telling you anything, because you won't be able to remember. We have a unique team called the Modifiers. They specialize in the mental branches of magic – Legilimency, Occlumency, obliviation charms, and the like. They are so good at what they do, we can send a person walking out of here with every single memory intact, except the ones that have anything to do with the resistance. There are no gaps – not even the slightest doubt that anything is off. It's an undetectable difference too." Harry glanced at Malfoy. "So if you fail, don't worry – you won't even know there was anything to fail in the first place."

Malfoy stared back at him for a moment, before Harry reached forward and unlocked the door with a murmured password and tracing of a rune. It swung open and Harry gestured for Malfoy to step through.

As the door shut with a resounding thud, Malfoy glanced around the room. It was empty, save for the two chairs in the middle. One was a simple wooden chair, conjured from Merlin knew where. The other, Malfoy noted with a slight paling of his face, was heavily fortified with straps and bolts holding it to the stone below. Heavy wards tingled across the room. Two other people were there, though their faces were obscured by cloth draped across their face. Only their eyes could be seen, blinking expressionlessly at Harry and him.

"Sit." Malfoy looked over at Harry, who regarded him with an equally expressionless face.

"How is this training?" Malfoy asked. To his relief, his voice showed no sign of the slight fear beginning to take ahold of him.

"This is just where it starts." One of the two figures held out a vial, which Harry accepted. "Veritaserum. Stronger than your usual stuff, though it's not completely foolproof. Even still, we _will_ know when you are fighting it, so don't bother. We will take you at your word, but if you give any indication that you have somehow overcome the serum, that's it. These two are Modifiers. They are here to act as witnesses but if necessary, they will make sure your memories are modified. They are also here to validate the state of your mind and make sure none of your memories have been tampered with prior to this moment. Shall we?"

Malfoy glanced at the impassive Modifiers, then at the chair, then back to Harry. "Let's get this over with," he sighed, reaching a conclusion. Harry had to admit he was impressed. No matter how many times a recruit decided to take the next step, it was always encouraging to see the bravery displayed. This was a dangerous looking scenario, no matter how one looked at it. It was not easy willingly stepping up to that chair, yet some did without hesitation. Malfoy did so now, turning around sitting as comfortably as he could before the straps began winding themselves around his wrists. Before the blonde could even blink, he was bound tightly to the chair. Harry approached, Veritaserum at the ready. Malfoy didn't even have to wait for the instructions as he put out his tongue. One, two, three drops, and then five minutes as they waited for the serum to kick in.

"Now try to lie to me. What is your name?"

"Corne-augh!" Malfoy's face twisted in pain. "Draco Malfoy," he hissed.

"What is your mother's name?"

Again, Malfoy writhed in pain before gasping out, "Narcissa Malfoy."

"As you can see, even attempted lies will only bring pain." Harry dragged over the second chair, and sat. "It seems the serum is working. We shall begin."

Hours had to have passed. There was no way to be sure, for the cold werelight that cast shadows across the room gave no indication of the passing of time. Yet his arms and legs had begun to grow numb with disuse and his voice was hoarse after constantly answering the questions Alistair posed to him. Sometime during the interrogation, Draco had allowed the words to simply flow from him and he had ceased even thinking about the answers. It wasn't as though he could avoid answering or lie about anything in any case. The answers therefore required very little brainpower, allowing him to simply brood about the situation he found himself in.

There was something familiar about this Alistair. Try though he might, Draco could not figure out why that sense of familiarity was there. It just…was.

The man was certainly unfamiliar in appearance. Draco did not recognize the tousled, russet colored hair, nor the cold, steely gaze fixed upon him. He guessed that the old Order of the Phoenix member would never have allowed a random stranger to lead them, so this man had to have been someone they knew from before. Draco would have recognized the man had he been a Hogwarts student, so that left only two options. The man was from the Ministry – an option he highly doubted – or there were some very, very complex glamours obscuring his identity from his observers. Draco would bet his life on the second option.

As to who the man truly was – again, going off the assumption that Alistair Hunter was a false name – he had no clues just yet. With the drugs in his system throwing off his senses, Draco had no chance of probing at the glamours just yet. But in time, he would. He was determined to figure out who he was really placing his trust in.

The man's personality could be the source of Draco's uncertainty. The way Alistair had clenched his jaw when Draco had goaded him upon his arrival to the camp seemed predictable, as if Draco had known his words would get a response. Yet at the same time, no student – or Ministry official – that Draco had known of carried the same quiet power this man did. It reminded him of the memories Lucius had shown him of how the Dark lord used to be back when he still carried the name Tom Marvolo Riddle. Calculating, possessing a sinister grace, and yet with an allure that people would find hard to resist. It was evident that Alistair was considerably less cruel; though equally evident was the fact that he would not shy away from violence or manipulation should it prove necessary. Those eyes though. Draco suppressed a shudder. It was difficult not to react when that gaze locked upon one's soul. It was piercing, knowing, yet mysterious. Even the color of his eyes kept shifting, keeping one guessing as to their true color. All the while, the man's magic swirled around, barely kept in check. Draco was certain that though Alistair hid it well, all it would take was a few carefully spoken words and the carefully constructed mask would crumble into an onslaught of unchecked emotion and passion.

Certainly, this was a powerful leader, one Draco could easily rally behind. He had always been drawn to power; his folly simply lay in having chosen a madman whose insanity had been too terrifying to resist. This time, however, Draco knew he was making the wiser choice. Now all that remained was to gain their trust and slither his way to the top. He wanted to be valued again, without the fear and loathing that the Dark lord wrought. He would help tear down the tyrant in lieu of raising this new leader who promised a truly better future. This rebellion would become his future and eventually, his entire world. Blood status be damned.

"We're done."

He blinked, coming back to himself. "That's it?" he blurted. Alistair's lips quirked and he cocked his head.

"You mean to tell me that seven hours of interrogation aren't enough?"

Again, Draco blinked. Had it been that long? Granted, they certainly could not afford to miss anything lest that be the end of this rebellion, but _seven_ hours? Alistair stood, waving his hand at the two Modifiers, who hurried forward and began to unstrap Draco from the chair. He began to push himself up and was surprised as his limbs protested the movement, tingling as the blood rushed back into them. "So do I pass?" Draco managed to keep from wavering on his feet as his legs adjusted to supporting him once more.

"For now. We'll see how you do in basic training." Alistair jerked his head at Draco. "Come. We're done for now."

"You aren't afraid I'll start spilling secrets?"

"If I was, you wouldn't have secrets to spill," came the answer. Draco fought the urge to shiver as he finally regained full control of his limbs and followed the man out of the room. The door creaked shut behind him and obscured the Modifiers from sight.

It was dark outside, the light from Alistair's wand the only thing keeping them from stumbling in the shadows. As they drew closer to the main camp, that light was extinguished in favor of the warmer light that emanated from the numerous torches flickering throughout the camp. Draco was led down the rows towards a series of tents that resembled barracks of a sort. "For now, given the career you just left behind, you will be assigned your own tent. You may rest securely; it is _very_ well warded."

"Afraid that someone would try to cut my throat in the night?" Draco glanced over at the other man, who simply glanced back.

"Among other methods, yes. There are a considerable number of refugees that pass through here, and even a good portion of our army who remember the name Malfoy. You will not be a popular addition. Merlin knows it'll be difficult assigning you to a partner."

Draco wrinkled his nose. "I prefer to work alone."

"Protocol states we cannot allow you to do so until you are proven trustworthy and capable." Alistair stopped in front of a tent. "You will be assessed during your first training session, after which we will begin to decide on an assigned partner. Who knows? You might be skilled enough to join a team. Solo missions are out of the question though, and they will be for quite a while." Draco scowled, but entered the tent after him without another word.

"Food is on the table over there. Eat. And you might want to get some rest. You start early tomorrow morning. One of our trainers will be by to bring you to the testing chamber."

Draco paused in his perusal of his quarters – small, but comfortable enough – and looked back at Alistair. His mouth opened to ask a question but the broad shoulders were already dipping through the entrance. "Talkative fellow," he muttered. With a rolling of his shoulders, Draco sat at the aforementioned table and began to eat. The exhaustion swept over him then, and he decided he would follow the advice of the enigmatic leader. It was only moments after he collapsed onto the provided cot before his eyes shut and he drifted off.

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><p>"Your determination to keep silent is admirable, but futile." Harry stalked around the man struggling against his restraints, his back pressed firmly against the table beneath him. The other four people in the room alternated between watching the man in fascination and glancing at Harry, who continued to pace around the table.<p>

The air was chilled and the cold metal had to be uncomfortable against the naked flesh of the man. Blood coated Rookwood's body, obscuring numerous cuts and bruises – a testimony to the rough interrogation techniques already employed. Harry studied the man's face. Rookwood wore a pained but incredibly stubborn look in his eyes, and if his jaw hadn't been broken, Harry was certain it would either be clenched or working to spit at him once again.

He sighed. "Heal it," he ordered, gesturing at Rookwood's face. The healer hurried forward and with a muttered spell, Rookwood's jaw repaired itself with a painful sounding crunch. The man groaned. "Since you clearly know how to withstand the usual methods, I've decided to try something new." Harry reached out a beckoning hand, and another Phoenix member quickly placed a silvery box in his hand. "I must admit, I'm curious to see what happens next. It's a fairly new trick of ours, but I'm sure you'll agree it's quite effective." There was a soft click as he opened the box – or rather, cage. Rookwood squirmed slightly as he spotted what was inside the box.

Careful not to touch the creature, Harry levitated the wriggling leech until it was hanging just above the captive's face. Rookwood's attempts to free himself became more frantic as Harry lowered it onto the man's forehead. The leech began to crawl towards his ear. One of the guards shifted, clearly unnerved, as Harry leaned down beside Rookwood. Into his ear, he whispered, "I do not envy your position. Ecficio memoriae horribilis."

The leech suddenly disappeared into Rookwood's ear as the man suddenly let out a scream of terror. Harry's face remained stoic as he straightened. "It hasn't even begun," he said with disgust. The screams suddenly increased in strength. "Now, you understand."

So said, Harry turned away from Rookwood. The smell of urine filled the room as the man soiled himself and Harry glanced at the healer. The woman, wincing, cast a strong cleansing spell to erase the mess as Harry mentally began to count down.

Two minutes later, and Rookwood's voice had taken on a hoarse note of desperation. There was a slight gurgle as his vocal chords ruptured and the healer once again cast a healing spell, this one to clear the windpipe.

The guard who had been uneasy before now spoke up. "S-sir?" Harry turned to glance at the man. It was a younger man, fresh out of training if Harry recalled correctly. It was he who had volunteered for interrogation duty although Harry suspected the boy had the stomach for it. On second thought, he was certain – the boy had a distinctly green tinge to his complexion. Harry inclined his head in a questioning look. The boy stammered, "W-what's being done to him?"

Harry turned back to look at Rookwood. His own jaw clenched at the gut-wrenching cries though he had long since steeled himself against emotions. He couldn't afford to let them cloud his judgement. The information needed was highly important to their survival; it was for the greater good, he thought bitterly. Dumbledore would be proud. "Tantibus leeches. The Tacticians created them," he began to explain. "They burrow into the mind, create visions that involve all of your senses. Visions the likes of which a spell cannot create single handedly. They create living nightmares within the victim's mind, images that the victim will never be able to forget." Harry's mouth settled into a grim line. "All it takes is one leech and the incantation. It's not a method I use lightly. Merlin, it sickens me to even reach this point." He turned to look back at the guard, whose mouth trembled. "But the information the captive has is more deadly than any other information we've ever tried to get before. We _need_ this information. Our future, and any hope we have of winning this war, depends upon what Rookwood has to offer. We have no other choice."

Rookwood's cries were beginning to weaken when he finally began to gasp aloud. "Please," came the broken sobs. "Please. I'll…I'll tell you everything. Shite, you can break into my mind for all I care. Just please…make it stop. Make _them_ stop."

"Finite malum." Heavy panting and sobs wracked Rookwood's naked body as the leech finally crawled out from his mind. Harry once again levitated it back into its box and sealed it, handing it back to a reluctant Phoenix. "Perfectly safe as long as your skin doesn't touch it," he soothed as the older woman relaxed. "Now then." He turned back to Rookwood. "Talk to me."

Rookwood's eyes darted back and forth, focusing on unseen things, no doubt hallucinations from the torment he had endured. "They glow…why do they glow?" he whimpered. "And the _taste_…I could _taste_ it…" Harry was quick to banish the bile that erupted from the man as his patience began to thin.

"Enough. Tell me what you know," he snarled. Rookwood flinched heavily.

"I'm…I'm not the only one," came the soft whisper. Harry leaned forward slightly. "There's five of us…we are the special ones. We were _chosen_…"

"Chosen for what?"

At last, Rookwood's eyes focused – on him. "We are the brethren," he hissed. The skin on Harry's neck crawled at the sibilant tone. It was far too reminiscent of a particular serpentine language. "Life givers…without us, our Lord would be left unprotected. Our power gives him immortality." A snarling cackle tore from his throat and blood again bubbled up from his damaged vocal chords. The healer stepped forward but Harry waved her off.

"Enough stalling. _Who_ are you? Who are your…brethren?"

Rookwood's laughter bordered on hysterical, and Harry was forced to wait until it died down. "Wouldn't you like to know?" came the simpering response.

"Shall I bring the leech back?"

"NO!" Rookwood thrashed.

"Then tell me!"

More thrashing, then… "I…I cannot."

"Why not?"

Rookwood's eyes rolled back in his head slightly. "_He_ will not allow it. He's always watching, you know." Harry tensed, as did the other four occupants. The cackle started again. "Oh, don't you worry your pretty little rebel minds. I don't mean to say he can see your every movement. But he's here…_with_ me. _In_ my mind. I can feel him _clinging_ to my soul." Again, mad laughter. A prickle of unease settled in Harry's spine. It was as they thought. Voldemort's soul shards corrupted the host. Rookwood was too far gone to be brought back.

"A name," he snapped. "Give me a name." Rookwood paused in his laughter, then continued.

"A name, says the fearless leader," came the mocking cry. "A name…he wants a name, he does. I'll give him a name…they can all have names. Little ickle Alistair and his itty bitty Nixes can have all the names they like. I'll call you Giggles and your healer friend can be Trixie and-"

"ENOUGH!" Harry slammed his hand down on the table beside Rookwood's head. The man flinched even more heavily than before, laughter fading into a whimper. "A name," he repeated, his voice dangerously low. "Or we start this all over again. I don't think your mind will be able to handle it again."

"I don't think it handled it well to begin with," came a muttered response from the young guard. Harry ignored him as he studied Rookwood. Rookwood's head rocked back and forth as a low keening sound came from him.

"A name…a name…why can't we give him a name…just a little name and then we won't have to see the voices anymore…" His eyes squeezed shut as Rookwood seemed to battle himself. "A rook met ill fate in the jaws of the beast; said Death to itself, 'This is all very strange,' and indeed it was worthy of praise," he whispered.  
>"He's mental," whispered the healer. "Alistair, that leech. It broke hi-"<p>

"Hush." Harry held up a hand to quiet her as he peered intently at Rookwood. The man was chanting the phrase under his breath, a repeating mantra that Harry wasn't sure he understood.

"A rook met ill fate in the jaws of the beast. Said Death to itself, 'This is all very strange,' and indeed it was worthy of praise," Harry repeated. Rookwood seemed to grow more excited as he twitched on the table.

"A name…a name…I cannot…"

"It's a riddle," Harry breathed. "A riddle. Expecto patronum." The silvery stag leapt forth from his wand and Harry leaned close to it. "Athena. I have a riddle for you. A rook met ill fate in the jaws of the beast. Said Death to itself, 'This is all very strange,' and indeed it was worthy of praise. It has to do with what we discussed earlier. I'll explain later." With a flick of his wand, the Patronus darted away, off to deliver its message. "We're done here."

"You promised," came a halting whisper. Harry looked down impassively at Rookwood. Tears gleamed on the man's face. "You promised to make it stop. Make them stop."

"I removed the Tantibus leech. That's all I can do." Rookwood let out a wail as the two guards and the other Phoenix member stepped forward. Together, the three began to undo the straps on the table, magically restraining the man as they did so.

"Careful with him. He's unpredictable," Harry admonished.

"With his defenses removed, what threat is he to us?" asked the young guard. Harry shook his head.

"Defenses or not, he's not fully human anymore. I cannot say more on the matter." He began to leave, pausing for a brief moment. "Take him to the execution chamber and give him his final meal. At sunrise, it ends." Rookwood's wails grew shrill, but were quickly silenced by the four silencing spells thrown up. The healer stepped forward, following after Harry.

"He was being unnecessarily loud," she said quietly. "I would leave those on until you get him back to the room. No sense in stirring you lot up; your mental health is more important than his. I will of course see all three of you in the medical tent as soon as you finish here for your usual check up, correct?" There were murmurs of agreements as she and Harry left the room.

"Make sure there are no lasting effects," Harry instructed. "Especially on that boy. I don't think he was prepared for the methods employed today."

"No one was, not really." The healer bowed her head. "But you are right, Alistair. This is necessary. The enemy would do worse in a heartbeat if the situation was reversed."

"Still, I do loathe playing the villain." The woman agreed as they fell into silence.


End file.
